Go Lost or Go Home
by InlovewithBroadway
Summary: Direct sequel of the story entitled A Song for Sweetness. As they deal with adulthood, New York and 1963, it's up to Link and Tracy to make it work. Please note this story, unlike ASFS, is rated M and contains mature adult content.
1. Chapter 1: Burn Me Down

**READER'S DISCRETION DISCLAIMER:**

Go Lost or Go Home is the direct sequel to A Song for Sweetness. I highly recommend you read ASFS first before attempting GLGH, otherwise it might get confusing. All characters are based off the 2007 movie musical Hairspray. Although it's obvious, I'm just putting it out there that I do not own Hairspray, its characters, NBC, ABC, American Bandstand or the William Morris Talent Agency. **Unlike ASFS, Go Lost or Go Home is rated M and the** **following chapter contains adult language &**** sexual adult content.**

Thanks for reading the boring stuff. :) Enjoy. -AM

* * *

**GO LOST OR GO HOME**

**By: Amber M**

**PART 1: APART**

**CHAPTER I: BURN ME DOWN**

There was nothing about this bedroom he liked. It was cramped, small, and dark, even when the window did bother to let in a little moonlight in from the alley beside his apartment building. It was always hot or cold, but never comfortable. You turned the radiator on, and it would be sweltering. You turned it off, and you were entering a state of hypothermic shock. There was no middle ground.

Right now it was on, and he was burning up. He had thrown the bed spread off of him and the sorry excuse for a full-sized mattress a long time ago, but, try as he may, Link Larkin could not go to sleep. He had been laying like this for what he assumed was hours, and even though tomorrow was sure to be frantic, and even though his alarm was sure to be ringing sooner rather than later, he could not calm his thoughts enough to summon the sleep he know he needed, but didn't want.

Instead, his mind was racing, and his thoughts were rampant. As each hour slipped by, the more the fire in his veins worsened, the more the anxiety in the pit of his stomach grew. Despite the daily calls, the dozens of letters they had shared, it wasn't enough. It could _never_ be enough. Not with Tracy, not ever.

Putting it frankly, 1963 had been cruel to Link in ways that were personally excruciating. So far, this year had left him annoyed, frustrated and horny as hell, for many reasons, none of them surprising.

For one thing, it was busy. _Stepside_ rehearsals had now become his life, and he found he was often dragging himself home at 9 or even 10 o'clock at night most of the time. For another, it was loud. Outside another fire engine had just left the station, its horn blaring in the frosty midnight air. In the apartment below, a cringe-worthy bluegrass record blared a full volume. And, to top it all off the noise, there was that constant nightly banging from the apartment above him, the telltale sound of a bed being knocked back and forth against the wall, some couple upstairs taking advantage of the midnight hour.

And if all this wasn't enough- there was also the third and obvious reason why 1963 had been torture. This year had been completely void of Tracy. Over anything else, this was why he couldn't relax, this was why he could not wrap his head around reality. Living without her had been harder than he had ever though possible. Painfully hard.

As the couple got louder, Link put his face into a pillow and groaned.

To say that he was sexually frustrated would be the understatement of the god damned century, and having to listen to the couple upstairs and their audible acts of pleasure every freaking night was doing very little to help the situation, especially since he was down here by himself.

It would have been a lot better if he could only stop picturing her in his mind. It was all he could think about, all he could focus on… her flushed, perfect skin up against his body… her soft, sultry voice whispering in his ear. Her beautiful smile, her gorgeous eyes. Her laughter, her tears. He had been denied all of these things, had been denied her, in the year 1963.

Nineteen sixty fucking three.

At these bitter thoughts, Link straightened, and sat up in bed a little. He couldn't help but glance sadly over to the other vacant side of the bed, and, as he did so, he sighed.

When came down to it, above all else, he was lonely. And that went well beyond any physical urge or want. He was lonely, and he missed her. Missed the girl he could talk with about anything, the girl he could tell his secrets too. Tracy was his best friend, his partner in crime, his center. He had waited four long weeks, and if he had to wait much longer, he was not going to make it.

In fact, honestly, if Link had not been absolutely sure that a day could only last 24 hours, he would have probably thrown himself out of his apartment building and into the snow lining the sidewalk below sometime ago. It seemed unrealistic that only a day now lay between him sleeping here by himself and holding Tracy in his arms for the first time since he had left on that train station platform a month ago. But their month was up, her train ticket was bought, and she would soon be here. Just a little bit more time, and she'd be by his side for a sweet, succulent 48 hours.

Link rolled over in his bed and sighed frustratingly. Of course, that all depended on if he survived another day of this cruel kind of torture.

* * *

Link made the early morning jaunt up 5th Avenue silently. Despite the street's popularity, it was always void of most pedestrians and cars this early in the morning, which was typically a good thing, save the fact that some noise would have probably helped him stay alert today. He was so exhausted a delivery truck could have literally driven up onto the side walk and run over him and he probably would have barely noticed.

Link had finally passed out in the very early hours of the morning, and now would run all day on only a couple hours of sleep. As much as he knew it was going to hurt today to be tired, Link had not been able to help himself, not with the knowledge that he was only a few hours away from getting to see Tracy _in person._

Luckily, no rogue delivery trucks chose to mount the curb this particular morning, and he found himself unscathed as walked across Rockefeller Plaza and into the RCA building, showing the guard his ID through a yawn. He stepped into the elevator, and the doors closed quietly as Link stared blankly ahead, only minimally aware of his surroundings.

As the elevator came to the 48th floor, Link started the long walk down the row of dressing rooms quietly, until he came to the second closest one to the soundstage, right before Donald O'Dell's, the host of the show. Link only stared for a moment at the bold, glitzy letters displaying the name _Larkin_ on the front, before taking out his keys to open the door quickly and shutting himself inside.

The room itself was impressively large, probably twice the size of his apartment. Adorned with a full size couch, walk in closet, a wall of a vanity mirror and a buffet table, he had cynically considered just moving in here instead of the little apartment he was currently renting. Link noted that the hospitality staff had already been in and out, and now a whole breakfast spread lined the buffet table. Link stared at the piles and piles of food for a moment, before turning away in mild disgust. His stomach was already queasy enough from anticipation to see Tracy, and he wasn't sure if he could eat anything. Instead, he turned to sit on the stool next his way too large vanity mirror, putting his head in his hands and breathing out.

_You can do this. It's just a few hours and then you'll see her and she'll see you and everything will be ok._

Looking up finally at the mirror, he chose not to stare at himself, but instead at the same picture of Tracy that had been bestowed to his Corny Collins mirror just one short month ago. There she was, sitting in the grass in her little lilac dress, smiling up at him; a happy moment from last summer forever frozen in time.

A small frown formed on Link's face.

He missed her _so god damned much_.

Without Tracy, everything was just lackluster, uninspiring. The fact was that he had grown spoiled on _the Corny Collins Show_, having her to rehearse with and practice with day in and day out for the last six months. And while he had always appreciated that this had been the case, not having here in New York was killing him. If he paired that with the growing tension from _Stepside_, it was almost enough to drive Link insane.

In theory, a show that aired live from New York City for an hour and consisted of several choreographed and colorful numbers performed by America's most talented young adults showcasing all the latest and greatest hits was suppose to be a positive, upbeat sort of thing.

That was in theory. So far, despite the 48th floor and large dressing rooms and impressive soundstages, _Stepside_ had been anything but.

On the first day, he had walked into NBC headquarters excited, rejuvenated even. Beyond his substantially large dressing room, they were personally tailoring him his own set of suits. He had his own costume assistant, makeup artist, and personal runner. Link remembered the way he had excitedly told Tracy everything on the phone later on, and he wasn't about to forget the fact that he had even _swaggered_ a little on the way home after the show on that first, impressive day.

But as the work days passed, (and consequently grew increasingly longer as the weeks went by) anxiety, tension and worry had started seeping through the cracks of _Stepside_, and it became clear to everyone that, even with each passing day, the show was in no way, shape, or form, ready for its green light or grand debut.

_Stepside_ itself was…well… _flawed_. Link wasn't a fool. He had been dancing on _the Corny Collins Show_ long enough to know when things weren't going right.

William Morris argued with NBC. NBC argued with William Morris. The producers argued with the directors, the directors argued with the choreographers. The choreographers argued with the dancers, the dancers argued with each other. And meanwhile it all whirled round and round and round with no possible end in sight.

The producers, two men by the names of Harvey Little and Max Keegler, had been flown in from Los Angeles to spearhead the show. Apparently the whole idea for _Stepside_ had been Keegler's vision, and after several pitches- NBC had picked it up for their fall season, to compete heavily against ABC's _American Bandstand_. NBC had contracted with William Morris to hire 18 dancers, young adults ranging from the ages of 18 to 22, to dance on the show. William Morris had done their job well, bringing many different talented and young dancers to the show, and had also earned some clout in the process. In fact, _Stepside_ was scheduled to be bumped up to start airing in the summer, while a concurrent heavy advertising campaign followed on its tails.

Putting it plainly, everyone, NBC in particular, was now largely relying on _Stepside_ to be a ratings juggernaut, for it to do the impossible and bring _American Bandstand _to its knees. If this was going to be even a remotely realistic possibility, however, it did not take a genius to deduct that this meant _Stepside_ had to be nothing short of perfection before it launched.

Right now, _Stepside_ was not even close to perfect. Obviously, this was a problem.

The expectation for perfection created pressure. Pressure meant arguments, politics, and a constant, never-ending stream of additions, deletions, and changes to the show. And this meant delaying the perfection that was so adamantly sought after. It was a viscous circle of disappointment, and all of it had been more than a little exhausting for Link.

Link and all of the other dancers had been moved around to three different sound stages as different concepts sets were tested and trialed, and every time Link had gotten used to one, they were moving again.

Additionally, William Morris had now hired a host for the show, something _Stepside_ had been planning to do without before. They had asked Link to personally sit in on the hiring process. And while Link assumed this was supposed to be some type of honor, Link had literally sat through weeks of auditions, time when he should have been rehearsing with everyone else. Finally a man by the name of Donald O'Dell, a smooth talking bandmaster also from Los Angles, had been one of the last flown out for negotiations and was subsequently hired for the part just last Tuesday.

Not only did missing rehearsals add to Link's frustration, but today was also the start of their _fourth _choreographer, all the others before having been hired and then fired in the process. The dances were supposedly choreographed to model the top billboard 100, but the problem with that was that the billboards charts were always changing. Everyone wanted to know where 1963 was going to take them, and the goal to keep the show as new and as fresh as possible to compete with the longstanding _American Bandstand_. It didn't take Link long to start to get the feeling that _Stepside_ was trying to figure out which hits were yet to be hits and which songs were yet to be songs.

If learning 46 dances in four weeks (because of the constant switching in choreographers) in half the time everyone else had learned them hadn't been proof enough of _Stepside_'s declining nostalgia, Link's growing distaste of the dancers he was working with was the final nail in the coffin.

They had recruited dancers from all over the country, "the best of the best", William Morris had said. And this was something Link certainly could not argue with. They were all very good. Each and every one of them deserved to be there. Despite the new numbers, the constant change of setting, and the revolving themes, no one was falling behind (except for maybe Link himself every once in a while due to the host hiring process).

However, he should have realized that when you get the best of the best, you have to pay the consequences. It was like someone had watched and documented every characteristic and mannerism of Link's from seven months ago and had multiplied it tenfold. It wasn't that most of these dancers had large egos; it was the fact that most of them actually thought they were God's gift to _the world_.

Whether it be the fact that he was heartsick for Tracy, or just because he was not as comfortable here in New York than in Baltimore, Link had not tried very hard to make friends. It seemed most of the dancers found their niche quickly, and also hung out after rehearsals in groups. Link had not done this once, and had increasingly found himself distanced from the rest of the group.

The first couple of weeks he had been invited out several times, his lead guy spot on the show being a shoe-in for easily becoming the most popular. However, he had declined again and again, constantly finding himself disgusted with all hung up everyone was on themselves. He knew this was sorely out of character for him, but without Tracy by his side, he had realized that he just didn't give a damn.

And so, after a while most of the dancers had stopped asking him if he wanted to socialize and had started ignoring him instead. This had quickly become the reason why he was the least popular dancer at rehearsal, and instead of socializing, now most of the time Link found himself spending his breaks in his dressing room alone, before and after rehearsal. So, although Link still held the highly coveted lead dancer role, but that's about all he had.

Although it was hard to admit, Link knew there were also other reasons for holding back on resuming his old role as the most popular. In the last few weeks, a lingering fear had started to crop up in the back of his own mind, and the other dancer's behavior had only worsened it.

Once the show did get off the ground and people did start recognizing him on a national level, how was he going to react to it? He knew he was talented, but when he was told point blank by Caroline Goddard and the producers that, if _Stepside_ did well, he would be hoisted up onto a pedestal for the public to adore, Link found himself shuddering a little.

After realizing his egotistical flaws, it had sincerely been _easy_ for him to correct them with Tracy there to guide him. This scared Link a little, and he wondered, not for the first time, how impressionable he was to the world around him. Without Tracy to steady him, without Tracy to act as his moral compass, would it be just as easy for him to grow cocky, conceited, to become person he was before he met her once again?

Had he truly changed, or was it that he needed Tracy to bring out his good qualities? Linked hoped beyond hope that the former was true, but he still did not trust himself to hang out exclusively with others who did view themselves in such a selfish light. It sure as hell not going to help the situation.

Link sighed again as he turned back to the picture of her in her lilac dress. Whatever the reason, he still missed her. And with only 13 more hours lying between them, he needed her more than ever. She would set him straight. Just seeing her smile would be enough to center him, to make him whole once again, despite the exhaustion he felt from _Stepside._

* * *

After some time, Link finally left his dressing room, mentally prepping himself for another day of brand new choreography. Unlike this morning, now all the lights were on, and several people from the crew were prepping what Link hoped would be the last sound stage choice.

Walking out onto the empty stage, only one other dancer had taken a seat in one of the chairs off to the side, where the cast met everyday before rehearsing.

Her name was Laurie Slater, and she was also one of the few dancers who got here early, and took her job seriously. Unlike almost all the other dancers, she was genuinely a nice person, and although Link didn't talk much to anyone, she would always say hello to him, and ask him how his day was.

She was also the only back female dancer on the show.

"Hi there, Link" she said, giving him a small wave. Link sat his water down on the cast table, and walked forward, making sure to plaster a smile on his face.

"Hi, Laurie," Link murmured

"You ready for brand new choreography…again?" she said through another smile.

"Huh, yeah," he replied, before also sitting down in one of the chairs nonchalantly.

For a while, she didn't say anything else, and was silent. Thinking the conversation was at an end, Link was quiet too. But after a bit of time, just as a few more dancers started slowly trickling in, she spoke again.

"I guess you and Ace get your own dance, now," she said quietly, looking to the floor. Link looked up to her quizzically; he hadn't heard of this particular bit of news.

"Me....and _Ace_? Why _Ace_?" Link asked, becoming steadily anxious. _Please don't say they picked her, please don't say they picked her, please, please, PLEASE!_

"I guess they finally picked," Laurie said, looking down to the floor again. "She's it."

"God _damn_ it," Link said, under his breath.

Sylivia "Ace" Matthews. New York native. Professional ballet dancer, among other things. Apparently her story was that she had tried out with the American Ballet Theatre twice and had not gotten in. That's when William Morris came knocking on her door to try to recruit her for some informal kind of dancing on _Stepside_. She had begrudgingly accepted.

No one was denying she was good. She was good. It made sense that she had been picked as the lead female dancer, but Link still would have chosen almost any other person other than Ace to be his partner, if it had been up to him.

For one thing, she was tall. Too tall. As in several inches taller than Link. She was probably at least 5'10", maybe 5'11". Link was 5'9", and that was on a good day.

Two, she was way older than him. At least 22. And although she looked fairly young for her age, Link just felt, well, _weird_, being shorter and younger than her.

Oh, and there was also the fact that she caustic, off-putting and intolerant of anyone who wasn't as good as her. That too. Link had figured this out quickly, if only because he had danced with her a couple of times and she had cut him down more than once. One of the first times she danced with him he had accidentally stepped on her one of her feet, mumbled an apology and something about the fact that it was his first time practicing this dance (where she had had ample time to practice, he had had to sit in on host auditions). However, she had responded with a nasty, "first time on the dance floor or in the bedroom, hot rod?" Link shot her a dirty glance, but had held his tongue and instead had chosen not to start up another conversation with her unless _forced_.

"How did you find that out?" Link finally asked Laurie, knowing he was becoming a little rude with his questions, but too caught up in his plight to care. At this, however, Laurie almost smiled a little bit.

"You really need to go down to Mick Mack's with some of us. You'll find out everything you ever wanted to know through Darling when she's intoxicated," Laurie said, through another smile.

Darling O'Dell was the new dancer on the show and right now the center of everyone's world. She was also a flirt, the one most likely to get intoxicated (by rumor, Link hadn't seen it in person) and she was also, most importantly, Donald O'Dell's daughter. Hence the inside information.

"I'm sure," Link said, before being interrupted as more dancers made their way onto the sound stage.

"Come on, doll, just _seven_ minutes" Link heard voices drifting in and out of the hallway.

"In your dreams, Bruno," Link heard another, distinctly female voice.

"No, in _heaven_, Darling. Seven minutes in _heaven_," he heard the guy reply.

Just then, the very blonde Darling O'Dell walked through the door, followed by three of the guy dancers coming in behind her laughing and joking it up. It could have very well been Brad, Sketch, and Fender from seven months ago, if Link hadn't known better.

"That's the name of the game though, baby doll," Bruno, one of the trio, said as he sat a couple rows up from Link sideways in his chair, facing Darling. The others all gathered around him, obviously intoxicated by Darling and whatever perfume she was wearing today.

"Yeah, maybe for high schoolers," she said, shooting a coy glance at Link, before turning back to the men in front of her. Yes, Link was the youngest on the show by a year or so. Most of the dancers were already in their 20's. And no, he didn't like being reminded of it every five seconds. However, Link, like every time they had a go at him in the past month, did nothing to retaliate, trying to remain detached (and also professional) as possible.

"Besides," Darling continued, "I don't put out like Ace does. So if you want some lovin', knock on her dressing room door," she finished, although from the way she sitting in front of Bruno her body language told a different story.

"Oh, you just keep telling yourself that, sugar," another voice said. Link turned around to the door once more, to see that Sylvia "Ace" Matthews had just entered the room. _Here we go…_

She looked fiery as ever. Her hair was as red as temper, and today she had chosen a red blouse to match, complete with black pants and stilettos that easily gave her two more inches, topping her well over six feet.

"Well, you know it's true," Darling said pertly, before sniffing her nose in the air. Ace snorted.

"The only difference between you and me _sweetheart_ is that I don't give a shit about my reputation and you do. And that's probably only because of your sugar daddy. Just because you don't mention it, doesn't mean that you don't put out," she said. Darling did not respond, although Link hadn't really cared, because now Ace was walking in his direction.

"Looks like you get me for dance partner, all year long, babe," she said, through a sassy wink. "So I'll know if you get too excited," she added, as she continued to walk past him to sit on the other side of the room.

Link almost growled underneath his breath, but did not say anything back. She was like Amber on acid. He had put up with the snide comments of this woman for the past four weeks constantly, and so far had not retaliated. Link wondered if that might change now that he had to dance with her _every day._

At this, Link put his head in his hands frustratingly. The day hadn't even started and it was already starting to get to him.

Link never thought he would mean this, but he would have easily traded every penny he had to be back on the Corny Collins Show and free of _Stepside._

* * *

If it was possible, the day grew worse. The choreographer was insane. Phsyco. Nuts. She had made them learn 10 new dances, plus one extra for Link and Ace. Which they were supposed to practice in front of everyone. By that point in the day, Link had really started to realize how sloppy he had started to become with dances, however he also found himself not caring. As the afternoon grew into evening, Link found himself checking his watch every few minutes, whether he was currently dancing or not.

After a while, Link was starting to worry about not being able to go home to change. He planned on getting Tracy flowers, buying some groceries, and cleaning anything that was out of place to make it perfect for her. As the evening wore on, however, the time when he was supposed to leave in order to do any of that had passed, and as the time inched so much closer to 8 o'clock, when Tracy's train was supposed to arrive, Link now started to worry about making it to Grand Central in time at all.

It was evening now, and, while everyone else had gotten to take a break, all of them chatting animatedly in the corner, the choreographer worked continuously with Link and Ace, trying to perfect their dance they would do together.

At least, until _Stepside_ hired another choreographer, Link thought bitterly.

As Link swung Ace around the dance floor, the choreographer stopped them again, to correct Link's posture for the fifth time. At this point, people were snickering, and Link now found himself getting mad. His posture was god damn perfect. It always was. It wasn't his fault it was impossible to swing a girl around who was six freaking feet tall. He was used to dancing with Tracy for God's sakes.

The dance was to the Billboard charter at the moment, Steve Lawrence's "Go Away Little Girl". Link thought the song was ridiculously inappropriate, considering the situation, but Link unfortunately wasn't calling the shots. For the sixth time, they started the dance over, holding her in his arms once more as best he could.

"It would help if he was taller," Ace said to the dancers, and now everyone was snickering again. Link bit his lip. Hard.

_You're professional, you're calm, you're focused_. For propriety's sake, all month he had been holding back the cynical and snappy things he had wanted to say to her. What he would give to give her a piece of his mind…

"I mean it, you really need a couple of inches there," she smirked, looking down at him just the song started, and they began to dance.

Maybe it was because he was sick of the show, or sick of New York or just fucking sick of 1963, but for some unknown, wild reason, something snapped inside him. He couldn't take it any more. God forbid he insult a lady, but Ace, Link was steadily learning, _was no lady_. Link's stubbornness he had subdued over the last month, all that pent-up frustration finally took a hold of him, and he started speaking before he even realized he had opened his mouth.

"Maybe you should lose a couple inches, _dollface_," he said, just as he swung her around perfectly, the move they had been stopped at five times before. As she came back to him, she looked at him somewhat quizzically, obviously stunned that he had finally got the move down as well as finally retaliated. This was new to her.

_There's more where that came from, sweetheart,_ Link thought, as the song changed keys and the dance escalated.

"I don't need a lecture from a _highschooler_," she breathed, now obviously angry, while they had to dance close together in perfect juxtaposition to how they felt. Link's muscle's flexed through his tension, as he reluctantly wrapped his arm around her tiny waist, while Ace was using her pointy nails to continually dig painfully into his shoulder.

"You keep telling yourself that, sugar," he said, using the same words she used earlier, before throwing an extra twirl to get her away from him for a few seconds.

"It's not my fault that I have to dance with a _hobbit_ with two left feet," she hissed, once again close to him. Right then, he dipped her dangerously close to the floor, and taunted her.

"Really, it's not?" he asked coyly.

"_No_," she said back, completely helpless in his arms, just as the last beats of the song were strumming along. He stared at her for a moment, and debated saying more. She shot him a nasty glance and he decided he just didn't _give a fuck_.

So, as soon as she came back up again and he held her close for the last time, he took the last, sweet and perfect opportunity to whisper into her ear.

"I thought you were the one who didn't make it as a ballerina and had to resort to _Stepside_," Link whispered vehemently. That did it. Now she was looking at him like she wanted to strangle him with her bare hands. Luckily though, he was leading, and right as song ended right on cue, he twirled her out in a perfect twist for the last time, finally flinging her away from him for good.

The song had ended and the room had gone silent. They were both breathing hard, both seething from the heated words they had shared during the dance. As they stood there, still glaring at each other, it took Link several moments to realize that all the other dancers had stopped chatting and were both now staring at the couple. No one was talking, not even the choreographer. Even Ace had shut up, and instead had just continued just to stare him down, still mad as hell.

Link breathed in an out for a beat more, before finally remembering the time. Looking down on his watch, he mentally cursed.

_7:45. Holy. Shit._

Instantly, he looked back up to the choreographer who had put him through hell today.

"Are we done here?" Link asked roughly.

For a moment the older lady just stared at him, obviously taken aback by the dance the couple had just shared as well.

"Ah, yes. Mr. Larkin, good... good job that time. Perfection. Just, talk less during it next time, yes? You may leave. Everyone else as well," the choreographer was saying, but on the first yes, Link had already flown towards the door, and out to the elevators.

All of the rest of the dancers weren't so apt to move as quickly, most of them still shell shocked from the performance they had just witnessed and Link's uncharacteristic outburst. Finally, Bruno broke the silence, voicing most everyone's question in the room.

"Where did they _get_ _that guy_?" Bruno said, looking back toward the door.

"Baltimore, apparently," Darling added quietly from the back.

"He's better than I thought he was," Bruno said.

"Yeah," Laurie Slater piped in. Although she smiled widely as she said this, as if she had known it all along.

"Ace, he might be better than you," Bruno said through a laugh, regaining his composure from some of the shock enough to joke once again.

Ace had been staring at the floor blankly where Link had stood moments before, but, at this, she looked up at Bruno and gave him a sneer.

"Not even _close_," she muttered fiercely, meanwhile making sure to grab her bag as she stormed off the sound stage, without saying another word.

* * *

Despite the cold weather, 5th Avenue was now packed with people. It was wall to wall traffic and taking a taxi was probably useless, so instead he had decided to sprint the 7 or 8 blocks it took to get to Grand Central. He continued to run like the freaking wind down 5th, with his briefcase in one hand and coat he hadn't had time to put on in the other.

He was trying desperately hard not to push anyone who was walking at normal speeds out of the way, but the closer he got the more anxious he became. Right as he jutted left onto 42nd Street, his watch was saying it was 7:56, and at this he picked up his speed.

Thank God dancing had put him in pretty good shape. If he wasn't on that platform on time like he promised, he was going to lose it.

He had not had the time to process what he had done on the show or what it meant. For all he knew he was fired from his job, they were giving his dressing room away to Bruno and Ace was planting a bomb in his apartment, but he found himself, once again, not caring. He hadn't been ready to wait around to see if he was in trouble when Tracy was literally almost minutes from arriving.

Finally reaching Grand Central, he pushed through one of the revolving doors. The terminal was just as crowded, and for a moment he stopped dead in his tracks in front of the ticker board. Scanning the changing arrival times quickly, he discovered the Baltimore express had just arrived. Cutting down the hallway again, he was almost on the verge of a panic. His adrenaline was pumping, he felt queasy from not eating all day, and his hair was probably sticking up in all directions from both sweat and running through the streets of New York.

Spilling down the stairs in a near-frenzy, he began to look this way and that at the platform below, the crowds from the train were already pouring out. After no luck in spotting his girl, he dove into the crowd people desperate to find her, to hold her, to love her.

He had come in on the far left end, and now purposefully pushed his way to the right, walking blindly ahead, pushing past people as politely as possible. He searched hopefully as he walked the entire length of the train and platform, but there was no sign of Tracy. As he reached the end, he stood there for a moment, considering the possibilities. Perhaps she had already gotten off? Perhaps she was on a later train than she had said? However, as most people were moving off the platform, Link turned around, and there, just as a family moved to the left, his world turned upside down as his heart jumped into his throat.

"Tracy?" he breathed.

She stood there, her cheeks rosy from the cold, a small suitcase in one hand. Tracy, with her little red pea coat she had worn the day he had to get on that damn train, exactly how he remembered her. Tracy, who had just spotted him, too, a quirky, expectant little smile on her face. Tracy, looking at Link like he was the only thing in the world she wanted.

"_Tracy_," Link said again, smiling widely as he walked to her with purpose.

He stopped right as he got to her, breathing out, not sure if she was real, or if he was dreaming.

"You're here," was all he could say.

"I'm here," she said through a smile. Coming out of his daze, he dropped his suitcase and coat instantly and pulled her to him, and kissed like he had never before kissed her in all his life, like the whole freaking world was about to end. She smiled through another kiss as he breathed her in, while his lips kept running over her neck, her jaw line, her own lips.

"God, I missed you," he whispered under his breath finally, resting his forehead to hers.

"I missed you, too," she said breathlessly, through another smile.

"You don't know how hard it was without you," Link said, finally standing up straight once more, although he still held onto her.

"You told me enough times," she replied through a laugh, and Link found himself laughing too, almost to the point of a giggle, deliriously happy he was holding her for real.

Her hand ran over his chest, making him shiver, but in the best way he could imagine. It stopped right above his heart, and she left it there for a moment.

"Your heart's beating so fast," she said through a small smile as she looked up at him. "Did you run here or something?"

"Would it be cliché to say that it's a long story?" Link asked, through another gin.

"Well now I've got time to hear it," she said, kissing him again on his cheek.

"In time, doll," he said. "You want to go look at New York first?" Link asked through a smile.

Tracy only grinned widely at him and squeezed his hand tighter. Link let out another little laugh, picked up her bag as well as his own, and then took her hand in his as they walked through the atrium.

As they went through the doors, and out into the midnight air, Link couldn't help but noticed Tracy had stopped breathing for a moment, looking at everything around them both.

"Oh, _wow,"_ she exclaimed, as she stared at the city before her. Soft flurries currently whirled around them and the street beyond, the twinkle lights from the recent Christmas still adoring the trees lining the sidewalk, as far as the eye could see. Looking up, the sparking reflections of a hundred office windows from the sky scrapers above were brightly lit, dotting the night sky. Around them, taxi's whirled, people laughed, and the city that never slept seemed to hum with life. As Tracy stared at the spectacle before her, Link found himself, for the first time in weeks, living in the moment with her, appreciating it all for the first time in weeks.

"You like it?" Link finally asked, through a smile.

"I love it," she said, almost twirling around where she stood, looking up at the buildings before her. Surprising her by encircling her in his arms again, she finally turned her glance toward him again, her cheeks glowing in the late night air.

"It's wonderful," she whispered through a breath.

"Good," Link said, before gently pressing his lips to hers once more.

* * *

Before they made their way to the apartment, they had stopped at a little pizzeria a block away from Grand Central, as they both had realized they were starving, and Link had painfully admitted he had not had time to pick up some groceries. Link had felt awful about this, but Tracy did not seem at all put out by his lack of preparation.

Now, they sat in the little pizza shop, Link ravenous and on his fourth piece of pizza, as they caught up about the day, and about what was going on in New York and Baltimore

"Wait, wait, wait, she called you a _what?"_

"A hobbit. She called me a hobbit," Link said, before taking a bite of his pizza.

"What's a hobbit?" Tracy asked, though a little smirk.

"Don't laugh," Link said, although he himself was smiling. "And I'm not sure, but I think it references the face that I'm shorter than her. She went after my height most of the night."

"You're perfectly tall enough," she said, a little frown then forming on her face as she heard about Ace's latest rant.

"Thanks doll," Link said, smiling. "Your opinion's all that matters. Although I'd wish she'd move onto another character flaw of mine- that one's starting to hurt," Link said through a little wince.

"I don't understand why she has to be so rude…" Tracy said, her frown deepening.

"Trace, she's mad at life. She didn't get her way now she's taking it out on whoever she can."

"What a way to live," Tracy said flatly.

"Tell me about it," Link said.

"I'm glad you stuck it to her today," Tracy said. "From what you've been saying I had the right mind to come up here earlier today and do something about it."

"Like what?" Link smirked as he shot her a glance across the table. He secretly loved it when she Tracy got defensive about him. "Protect me?" he guessed through a smile.

"Exactly," she said. "And it you didn't need protecting I could have at least been… been your wing man or something," she said.

At this Link broke into another fit of laughter, choking on the sip of coke he had been drinking in my process.

"Don't laugh," Tracy said. "I'm serious"

"I'm not, I mean, I'm sorry," Link replied. "I apologize- you'd make an _excellent_ wing man. I could have really used you this past month." At this she laughed, but his own smile had lessened substantially as he realized the absolute truth of this statement. The memory of what it was like without her made him shudder, and now the feeling of having her sitting across from the table from in at this little pizzeria he frequented was almost surreal.

"It's almost not worth being here," he said a little more softly, looking down at his half-eaten pizza.

"Link..." she began

"I know. I know we talked about all this. But _God,_ Tracy, lately? That's all I've been wishing for. And to have you her now- it just makes me want to forbid you to ever go back. Or, at least, I want to go back on that train with you to Baltimore," Link murmured.

"Don't say that," she replied, looking at him sincerely. "You have to stay here, Link. This _is _your break, I know it. You need to know it. And you realized going into it wasn't going to be easy."

"I know, but..." Link said, biting his lip in frustration. How could he convey the worry he felt? How could he make her understand that without her, he couldn't be the person that he wanted to be? "What if…what if I don't trust myself without you?"

"What do you mean?" Tracy asked, a little alarmed all of the sudden. "You mean with her?"

"No! God no, I meant- I'm just…ugh," Link sighed, trying to find the right words. "You're so _good_, Tracy. I mean, you're a good person. I don't think you realize how high you actually set the bar. You just make everything…clear. But, around them, things get fuzzy. They're all how I used to be, Trace. All of them. And I've tried keeping my distance, but today… it was sort of scary. I was pretty mean. Mean like _them_. And I'm finding I'm having a hard time regretting any of it... and that's what bugging me."

"But that's completely different Link. You were provoked; she deserved it. That doesn't mean you're suddenly one of them. You're so much more than that," she sighed for a moment, trying to get her point across. "We never see ourselves for who we really are," she finally finished, before resting her hand on his across the table.

Link only stared at it for a moment. He wanted with everything to believe her, and it was easy to when she was right here, whispering truths into his ear. But what about today? What about Monday? How would he walk in there and face himself?

"Well, it's still probably a good thing I'm not hanging out with them…" Link finally said. At this, Tracy frowned again.

"I meant to talk to you about that too…" she began, and Link's eyes widened. _Was she actually insinuating…?_

"Seriously Tracy? You want me to go to _Mick Mack's?_" he scoffed. Tracy only bit her lip for a moment, obviously debating whether or not to speak. Finally, after a minute, she continued on.

"Link, you've gotta stop _ignoring_ everyone. No matter what they're like, these people are essentially your co-workers…you're going to be seeing a lot of them. You're a social guy, shutting yourself in dressing room is really cramping your style. And after work's even more important. I hate to think of you there in that apartment all alone."

"It's not _the same_ without you," he almost whined.

"Of course it's not. And it's not the same as Baltimore and it's not the same as _the Corny Collins Show_. But that's okay. It never claimed to be. Let it be what it is, and in the mean time, I'll be moving in very soon, and then you'll be sick of me."

"_Not_ possible," he said, holding her hand tighter.

* * *

Shortly after the check came, Link had paid and they both made their way back again into the brisk, evening air. Despite the increasingly late hour, the streets were still busy with last-minute traffic, although now pedestrians were picking up the pace as the temperature was steadily dropping.

He asked her something about getting a taxi, but she declined politely, wanting the walk the few blocks back to Link's apartment.

And so, they braved the chill together, staying close to each other for warmth, but still talking animatedly about all that surrounded him. She asked him question after question about everything in his new life, and he had taken to pointing out landmarks and explaining his daily routine. Along the way, he showed her the best diner to eat at, the best hotdog vendor. He pointed across the street to the post office, where he had been mailing her letters from. Anything and everything that had become important to him in that four-block radius, he had showed her.

Finally they had reached their destination, just off 46th and Lexington.

"So this is your apartment building?" Tracy said, smiling widely at the structure before her.

"Our apartment building," Link reminded her, through a little smile.

"_Our _apartment building," she echoed, looking up to him giddily, as she followed him up a couple of stairs on the stoop. Link smiled again at her cuteness, before coming to the door. Looking at it for a moment, he bit his lip and turned to her.

"Tracy, babe, just…don't expect anything too glamorous. I'll take you by the studio tomorrow, and you can be wow'd there. But this… this is until I start seeing some royalties…so don't get too excited," he said, before fiddling with the keys.

"I _am _excited," she said, a huge giant grin on her face. As soon as he opened the door, she went inside quickly. "This is _our _apartment building," she said again. Link laughed a little nervously, and let her take the lead. As she looked ahead at the stairs, she turned to him.

"Up?" she asked.

"Up," he said, through a sigh. "Up a lot of them."

Tracy only laughed, but truly did not seem to be perturbed. By the 6th floor, she was already waiting by the door, and he was huffing it.

"Sorry, Trace. Jeez, I'm more tired than I thought," he said.

"Please tell me you slept," she said, letting her excitement drop for a moment, a look of concern back on her face.

"I…slept," he said vaguely, refusing to tell her for exactly how long. It was right then that he sneakily opening the door to the apartment, so as to distract her from the budding conversation.

It worked, as she was suddenly drawn inside, as if by magnetic force. He followed behind her before pulling the door shut, setting the bags down on the small kitchen table.

She stood in the middle of the room, her back to him, as she looked around the tiny apartment. He stood in the corner, suddenly extremely nervous. She didn't say anything as she walked around the room, which didn't take very long. He had managed to buy the TV, the coffee table, the record player, the loveseat. That was about it. On one side of the living room was the kitchen "area" a small refrigerator and oven lining the wall with a tiny bit of counter space.

Finally noticing the hallway (the very short, only hallway) Tracy gestured to it.

"The bedroom?" Tracy guessed. At this, Link blushed ever so slightly, but nodded.

"Yeah," Link murmured, although she had already walked into the room, Link following behind her, standing in the door way.

The bedroom was even smaller, although Link was entirely thankful that he had kept it pretty clean. The furniture in here was fairly modest too. That same pretty lame excuse for a full-sized bed, a dresser, a night stand. She simply stood by the bed for a moment, looking at all around her.

Tracy's lack of any kind of excitement was now truly disturbing him, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. It had taken most of his savings to put down a deposit and pay for a few months rent for this place, plus the furniture, but Link found himself thinking he somehow should have worked harder, saved more, to give her something better, especially if she didn't like it. Meanwhile, his worrying was making him feel anxious. His anxiety made him start talking.

"I know it's sort of plain," he said, through a stammer. "I mean, you can pick out better curtains, or... a bedspread, if you want. You have a better eye for that stuff anyway. I just thought I'd get the basics...and you could fix it how you wanted..." Link trailed off, about to explode if she didn't say something. _How bad was it? _

Finally, she turned back and looked at him, _really looked at him _for the first time since she had entered the apartment_. _He thought she'd be frowning, or upset, or mad...but instead she almost looked, well, _stunned_.

Finally, she spoke.

"This is...this is _all ours_?" she whispered, as if she was talking about Buckingham palace instead of the 9x9 foot room they were currently standing in.

Link let out a timid laugh, genuinely surprised. _She liked it._

"Umm, yeah" Link said, running a hand through his hair. She finally seemed to notice how nervous he had been, and, at this, she made her way to him silently, slowly, and weaved her fingers though his hands.

"Thank you," she said gently. "This is amazing," she whispered, before standing on her tip toes to give him a soft and delicate kiss.

And just like that, everything he had hated about this place, the room that just last night he had loathed, took on a whole new meaning. It suddenly had potential, it suddenly had promise. It had life now, all because Tracy had stepped through threshold, and deemed it so.

"Anything for you, babe," Link said softly. He meant every word.

* * *

The shower was warm and hot as the steam flowed from every direction in the bathroom, as the water continued to pour down on him steadily. It was a couple hours later, and after quite a long time of talking and just existing together, Tracy had discovered through devious probing that Link had, in fact, only gotten a couple hours of sleep from the night before, on top of dancing all day.

It had actually been her suggestion that he unwind, relax, and it had surprisingly not been as awkward as he thought it was going to be when he excused himself away for a shower.

And _it did _feel good. Link simply stood there as the water poured over him. The hot, steady pressure on sore and tensed muscles was exactly what he needed, and Link found his eyes drifting close every few moments in some well-needed bliss.

Tracy, meanwhile, was supposedly in the kitchen making tea, one of the only items currently stocked in the pantry. He loved just even thinking it about it that way. Tracy was in _their_ kitchen. Tracy was here in t_heir _apartment. When he thought about it like this, he didn't seem so distant, so entirely alone. And soon enough, so soon he could almost touch it, she'd be here for good.

Finally, he shut off the water, grabbing a fresh towel off the rack in the bathroom. If the bedroom had been small, the bathroom was tiny, so this wasn't at all a difficult maneuver. He toweled his hair dry, and threw the towel around his waist, while also concurrently wiping the steam off the mirror.

The shower had helped. He looked a little better. He still had those token dark circles under his eyes, but at least he didn't look like he had been run over by a truck.

"Hey Link!" he heard Tracy call from out in the kitchen. Link's ears pricked at this, and, curiosity getting the best of him, he opened the door and went through the hallway to see what was up.

"Link I was just wondering if this you wanted sugar....oh... hi," she said, spinning around to greet him in the kitchen.

She had seen him in less before. This wasn't exactly a new thing, and yet he had caught her off guard, and now her embarrassed fluster amused him. Towel still securely around his waist, he stepped closer to her.

"Sugar?" Link asked playfully.

"Umm, yes. Uhh, would you like sugar in your tea?"

"Sounds great," he whispered into her ear, before kissing her softly on the cheek. As he finally drew away from her, he noticed she hadn't said anything back, but now only stared at him breathlessly.

The sexual tension was palpable.

He smiled at her, forever glad he that kind of power over her. Probably a little too proud of himself, he turned back to the hallway, intent on finding some clothes to wear. It was just as he entered his bedroom, however, he suddenly was stopped in surprise, as he felt a hand on his own.

"Link," she said…trailing off.

"Yes?" he said, turning back to her.

"I just…" she said, before stopping. Link looked at her quizzically, very much aware she still held his hand rather tightly.

"Tracy, what's-" was all he managed to say, before she pulled herself to Link and kissed him, hard. Momentarily stunned by her forwardness, it took him a split second to respond, but then he was kissing her back just as fervently, melting into her embrace. Link was instantly brought back to the moment they had shared on the platform earlier that day. It was a kiss that said it all, the want, the need to be with one another. The yearning and loneliness from time spent apart.

Her hands worked through his still-damp hair, and he breathed out steadily, loving the feel of her fingers. Her teeth nipped his bottom lip hungrily and he found himself increasingly losing control. He breathed in sharply, and instantly his back was up against the cool wall, Tracy not even remotely letting up.

As her tongue ran along his, his quivering hands trailed over her shoulders and then to her waist, eager to touch more of her, whatever he could get at. She then moved one hand down his chest, and he was instantly on fire with pleasure. He found he couldn't remember his name, who he was, why he had ever had a care in the world. How could he, when she had him up against the wall like this? Meanwhile, her hands that had continued to travel over his chest, slowly made their way lower down to his abdomen, making him shiver in the way that had nothing to do with the January weather.

Before he could even comprehend what was happening next, her fingers had run down his arm and then grabbed his hand, leading him over to the bed. At this move, Link seemed to wake up a little bit from his daze, as he realized what she was doing. She was now sitting on the bed, looking up at him expectantly. This wouldn't have been too out of the ordinary, save the way she was looking up at him. He breathed in steadily, realizing what she wanted. She was saying it all, without saying a word. They both were thinking the exact same thing.

"Trace," he breathed, still holding onto her hands.

"Yes?" she said, her eyes dark with want, with need.

With everything that had happened to him over the last few months, this part of their relationship had been sorely neglected, ignored. They both knew it, but, at the time, so much had been standing in their way. Trying to finish school, Link's father's death, the fact that he had stayed with Tracy's parents afterward, under their supervision- all of these things had inhibited them, and their physical relationship. Although they had fooled around, and had gone to first and second base on many occasions, the opportunity, the _timing_ had never been right for, well, _this. _

Although obviously the thought had crossed his mind, particularly during her month-long absence… he hadn't picked her up from the train station tonight _knowing_ this was going to happen, as he had always and forever abided by the rule that he had established so long ago that they would take their physical relationship at _her_ pace.

But now, _but now,_ she was staring up at him with those dark honey eyes, and he realized that here, at this perfect moment in time, nothing was stopping them. Not school, not inhibition, not his father, not a creaky bed just down the hallway from her parent's room. Everything had fallen into place. Now, everything was _right._

Searching for some type of verbal confirmation from her to affirm these thoughts, he found himself nervously stumbling over his words.

"Tracy, are you… do you mean?" was all he could get out.

She smiled softly at his nervousness, and stood up once more, resting her head on his chest.

"Yes," she whispered, and she held him tighter.

"You're sure?" he asked, barely breathing.

"Link," she said, pulling away from him a little to look him directly in the eye. "We're _engaged,_ I'm only here for two days, and I love you. I've never been more certain about anything."

Link gave her a gentle smile, as his mind tried to comprehend what they were talking about doing. Finally, he spoke, gently.

"You're right," he replied, running a hand through one soft curl of her hair. "Ok." At this, he kissed her again sweetly, before purposefully taking her back on the bed once more, traveling over her with new-found abandon.

They took it slow, and as the minutes melded together, they explored one another. He moved the sleeves of her dress off of her shoulders, the top part of it now down at her waist. Staring at her perfect, flawless skin, Link's eyes swept over her hungrily.

"You're so god damn _beautiful_," Link breathed.

Her cheeks flushed as she continued to bite her lip with uncontrollable want. As Link moved over her, she propped herself to kiss him all over. As her lips nipped at his rapid pulse, Link's suddenly found himself craving more, wanting more. His fingers traveled behind her back, easily unhooking her bra and tossing it aside.

As he kissed her back, his lips moved down her neck, across her color bone, and dipped to one of her full beautiful breasts. Tracy gasped in pleasure.

"Link," she murmured, as her hand gripped his arm every more tightly. He smiled softly as his mouth moved across her, loving his name on her lips

As her soft fingertips glided through his hair, he ducked down to run his hand up one of her legs, tracing a finger all the way up to her inner thigh.

"_God_, yes," she said, and Link was almost undone by her words. Not being able to handle any more obstructions, in one single move, he slid the rest of her dress and her panties off of her, freeing her of fabric.

She was completely naked beneath him, and Link liked it that way. His eyes traveled over body hungrily, so amazed that she was all his to have, to hold. He was interrupted his selfish thoughts though, as her hands moved down length of his body towards the at this point substantially loosened towel, and he felt himself shudder and a twist of pleasure ran down his spine.

He could feel his arousal hard against her, and now he was aching with an urge he didn't think he was capable of to be inside her. As if she was reading his mind, in one brisk move she moved the towel completely off of him, leaving him as naked as her.

"Only fair," she struggled to say, through a small smile. He smirked at her, and growled as he kissed her again, as his hand blindly reached for the bedside table door, pulling out a condom.

When Tracy noticed what he was doing, she smiled up at him.

"I was hoping you had them," she trailed off, through a semi-blush.

"Just in case…" Link said. Tracy laughed a little beneath him and he could help but kiss her once more.

Despite the fact that it had been awhile since he had used one, Link slid the condom on easily in one fluid motion. He kissed her for one more sweet second more, hovering right above her. For a moment, he hesitated, asking her with his eyes if it was okay to go on.

She nodded very slightly and he was sure to bring his lips to hers as he entered her slowly. He could not help but gasp through their kiss as a whole kind of different pleasure overtook him. It felt amazing, but even more prevalent was the fact that he had never been this close to her, been one with her on such a perfect and intimate level. He had been blind before now, and Tracy had just opened up his eyes to something he never thought he could feel. The effect was staggering.

Even as these feelings started to pull him under, the pleasurable tension building, he tried to judge if she was in pain, or in discomfort, as he felt the clutch on one of his hands tighten.

"Are you ok?" he barely murmured. She only nodded, and then moved up to kiss him, telling him it was alright to go on.

Not being able to remain motionless any longer, he started to move inside her, slowly at first, and then just a little quicker, as they both began to get comfortable, falling into one, shared rhythm.

He couldn't think anymore, overtaken with bliss as he was as they rocked back and forth together, taking each other in from this new angle.

Slowly, and surely, their breath became heavier in the dark and their grips on each other tightened. She moaned against him as he quickened his pace, her body shaking with the telltale signs she was reaching the height of her pleasure.

"Baby, Trace, yes…just let go," Link said, through breaths.

He had made her orgasm before, but never like this. As a tremor of pleasure pulsed through her, she screamed his name, sending a shock up through his own body.

Right about then was when Link Larkin's world came undone. He came on a moan, his eyes closed tightly as he let the titillation wash over him, the feel of her soft skin beneath him and her whisper of "I love you" in his ear the only things that mattered.

* * *

A little while later, they both lay there on the bed, breathing in and out as they watched the snow fall out of the sky through the small bedroom window. He held her in his arms, breathing in her hair. Tracy faced him, her head close to his chest, listening to the beating of his heart.

He could have existed like this forever. He couldn't help but think that _this _was what New York, 1963 should have been like. Frowning a bit as he remembered the night before, the night without her, it took everything in him not to dwell on the time when she would have to leave him here again alone, especially after they had shared so much together.

Finally, after a bit of time, he spoke into her hair, his voice the only sound hitting the quiet night.

"You… me...all this. It's so close to us. We almost have it," he murmured. She turned toward him a little more, looking up into his eyes.

"We do have it, Link. It's here, it's right now," she replied, squeezing his hand tighter. He looked at her, a bittersweet smile on his lips.

"But what about when you're gone?" he asked softly. Her eyes were soft in the darkness, but he could make out the sad smile on her face.

"We'll still be together. We don't lose anything, Link," she said. He was silent for a moment as he overturned this thought in his mind. _We don't lose anything._ He hoped beyond hope that his was true. Finally, after a bit more time passed, he spoke again.

"I guess you're right. We do. It's you and me babe," he replied.

"You and me," she echoed, before placing a feather kiss on his lips. She smiled at him then, glancing around the bedroom for a moment, before adding, "In _our _apartment." Link couldn't help but chuckle at this, as he held her all the closer.

* * *

**A/N:** **Well, that was chapter one. As you can tell, this chapter, well, um, crossed some lines that ASFS didn't cross. I hope I didn't offend anyone, but that's why I put the reader's discretion disclaimer. **

**I can tell you right now GLGH will be 10 chapters long, separated into two parts, five chapters each. This was chapter one, of part one. (It's a little more structured than ASFS was, but I hope that will keep me on task more than I was with ASFS.) The chapters are long, so expect a couple weeks between updates. **

**Hope you enjoyed it. Thanks, as always, for taking the time to read anything I have written. It means the world to me, guys.**

**Happy beginning of summer, by the way!**

**-Amber**


	2. Chapter 2: Joy Ride

_**Prewarning: The following chapter contains adult language & mild sexual adult content.**_

**CHAPTER II: JOY RIDE**

The Baltimore Express chugged along at a sluggish rate as Tracy continued to stare out the window. The sun was already setting in the forested horizon, and she restlessly put her head against the cool glass. She barely noticed the way she tightly gripped her gloves, too entirely distracted from the one thought running over and over again through her head.

_How was she going to do it?_

Leaving him on that train station platform had been one of the hardest things she had ever done. Tracy had not realized how bad Link had had it when he had left a month ago- being the one to have to board the train, having to make the first move to really leave. The way he had _looked_ at her… with those pleading, blue eyes, begging her silently to stay, even though they both knew there was no way she could possibly be able to.

She had been encouraging him all weekend to enjoy the moment. But when their moments had ended, to leave had almost torn her in two. How could she be sitting on this train heading back to Baltimore, when she could summon every detail, every memory of the past few days she had shared with him? The memory was so real she could relive it… and for what had been the umpteenth time since she had left, she found her eyes closing shut, and instantly a bright morning filled her head once again.

_The sun was lazy getting up that day, but even with the winter clouds, it eventually decided to shine in through the little bedroom window. As its rays glittered across the bed, announcing it's presence to all who remained asleep on this late, sleepy Saturday morning, she finally stirred, lazily opening her eyes._

_Staring up at the unfamiliar ceiling, for a moment she did not know where she was at. Nothing seemed familiar, and this puzzled her. It wasn't until she realized that her hand was clasped around his and she heard his deep, even breathing that her sluggish mind caught up with her senses, the pieces falling into place._

_Link, her Link, slept silently beside her. She had just woken up in her fiancée's bed, and it was so new and different she hadn't even realized it. She smiled, pleasantly surprised._

_She had imagined what this moment was going to be like for a long, long time. Even when she was unsure if or when it would happen, she had imagined waking up in their own place, Link beside her. _

_Even with her idealistic guesses, it was__so_ _much better in real life._

_Turning towards him, she studied him while he slept. Typically, Link didn't sleep enough, and even when he did it was never a peaceful, resting ordeal. She knew he dreamt a lot, and the rare, few times when she had caught him asleep, his eyes were always shut tightly, as if straining to keep bad dreams, or perhaps bad memories, at bay. _

_But not today. For once, he looked calmed, serene. His chest moved up and down at a slow pace, breathing contently. Even his heart, which Tracy could feel by being so close to him, felt regular, like he was perhaps not dreaming at all, but completely immersed in an eventless slumber._

_Her eyes passed over his mussed hair, and she couldn't help but smile. Tracy always secretly loved it when his hair became a mess, if only because, even though Link strove to keep it flawlessly combed, the more and more she saw of him, the more she saw _all_of him, and the illusion of constant perfection was slowly starting to fade. She liked this about their relationship. He was human after all, and considering the things that had happened last night, it was no wonder his hair looked liked it did. She was sure hers was messed up too, but, not for the first time, she found her self not caring. They had just spent all night together in bed; this is how they were supposed to look like in the morning. _

_At this logic, specific memories of just what did happen last night began to roll like a projection in her mind, and she felt herself blush. Last night…last night was the first night she had spent here, and last night was the night she had given everything she could possibly give to Link._

_His continuous cordial and gentlemanlike behavior when it came to the topic had always spoken volumes. Just as he had promised so long ago back when she had questioned his integrity on the subject, he had never pushed her, pressured her into anything. Ever. He had always let them go at her own pace, something she appreciated._

_But recently, with a ring around her finger and their future in her mind, any doubts or insecurities about her first time had all but disappeared, and she had made a conscious decision before this weekend began that she was ready. She had stepped onto that train knowing that this was the time, the place, where she wanted to share with Link the ending of some of the last of her innocence. _

_It was no surprise that last night he had been the same gentleman, and it had been everything she could have hoped for. He had been patient, kind, caring. It hadn't even hurt that bad, not with him helping her through it. It actually had been, well, quite enjoyable if she was putting it bluntly. But the best part was that she guessed he had enjoyed it also. After his initial caution to make sure that it was what she really wanted, there had been something in his eyes that let her know he wanted it, too. Knowing that was the best part. _

_She grinned as she continued to watch him sleep, remembering some of the steamy particulars of last night. For no particular reason other than a desire to touch him, she slowly moved one dark, black curl off of his forehead. _

_Despite his peaceful rest, it was not hard to discover that Link was the lightest sleeper she had ever encountered. At the feel of her hand brushing his forehead, he stirred, and instantly moved to pull her closer to him, even through closed eyes. She giggled a little at this, but let him do it, secretly adoring this little morning habit of his. _

_However, she hadn't noticed he was actually awake until he whispered into her ear. _

"_Good Morning," he said softly._

_She smiled a little as she turned to fully face him, and noticed he had opened his eyes, the morning light dazzling her as it reflected off crystal blue._

"_Morning," she whispered happily._

"_Watching me sleep?" Link asked, still through an early morning smile._

_She could feel her cheeks grow warmer through another blush, but she nodded, admitting to her fairly innocent crime._

"_Couldn't help it," she said, and Link laughed, before moving to lean over her a bit more._

"_Hmmmm..." he murmured in contentment, before kissing her cheek softly, his lips then traveling to her ear. "You're so beautiful," he whispered._

"_You told me that last night," she said breathlessly, in shivers from his touch on her sensitive skin._

"_And I'm telling you again," he said, nuzzling into her neck._

"_Even with morning hair?" she said through a smile._

"_I love your hair, no matter what point of the day it is," Link smiled. _

"_I love that you love that," she said through a little laugh, although she could feel her breathing already altered, completely redefined just by one lingering kiss, one lazy touch._

_For a while, no one spoke, so wrapped up in each other as they were. Her fingers lazily traced patterns over his arm that held her, while his breaths continued to tickle her cheek. After a bit, he finally spoke again, and what he said surprised her, for she had been thinking the same thing all morning._

"_How did I find you? How was I so lucky?" Link asked softly. _

"_I could say the same thing…" she replied, as her fingers traveled across his arm to his hand and held it once more._

_Sometimes, having the real Link Larkin so close in her life caught her off guard, and even while he lay so close beside her, this morning had been one of those times. _

_How _did _Tracy_ _find Link? He had to be one in a hundred thousand million. She wasn't sure if it was the early morning sleepiness that still surrounded her, or it was from the more intimate memories of the night before, but she found herself in complete awe of this fact. _

_One thing was for sure, she would never, ever take him for granted. Not Link. Never her Link. Not when he loved her so much._

"_I don't want to let you go tomorrow," he finally said into her hair, his grip on her tightening slightly. At this, Tracy turned to look at him, putting a hand to his hair and brushing it back off his forehead. _

"_Let's not even think about it yet. We've still got all of today," she whispered into his ear, before kissing it softly. He shuddered at this, and moved closer._

Tracy sighed against the train window as the sweet memories reminded her of how the day had proceeded. They spent most of the morning in bed, talking, sleeping, making love. Tracy had not been surprised how natural it had felt, how right. It was exactly how she knew it would be.

And even beyond the physical, she realized now that they were on an entirely different level. She could feel it. They knew each other completely now, and nothing could stop them from going after a future they knew they deserved.

Later on that day Link had taken her to RCA Building in Rockefeller Center to see his studio. Tracy had been mostly in awe during the whole procession, and had asked him a hundred different, enthusiastic questions, all of which he answered amusedly. They had gone ice skating on the plaza after that, and Tracy had found it adorable that, despite his dancing abilities, Link was a horrible ice-skater. She had spent most of the time helping him back up off the ice every time he had fallen, all the while soothing his wounded ego.

They had shared an intimate dinner, off the ice, and had gone back to the apartment that night. _The Defenders_ was on CBS, and they watched it on the little love seat Link had bought for them. They again shared an intimate night, which had lead to an intimate morning.

But the time in which he had to let her go steadily approached, and before she knew it they were in a taxi on the way to Grand Central, bags packed, dread apparent.

And, somehow, someway, despite his continuous protestations all weekend, he had let her go. He let her get on the train, and, as much as it hurt, she left, but not before noticing the drop in his shoulders and how his head turned downward as her train made its way out of sight. That part had broken her heart.

Now the sun was set and she could barely make out the blurred, blue horizon as it chased its way along the train window. Instead, she found that she was staring at her reflection, the darkened window now nothing more than a mirror. For a moment, she studied herself, a little unsure. She looked the same, but after this past weekend, she felt completely and totally different.

_How was she going to do it?_

She didn't know the answer to this question anymore. Link had told her back in December that she could do anything, even without him there.

For the first time in her life, she wasn't so sure.

* * *

"Larkin? Hey Larkin?"

Link shook his head, coming out of a daze. He had just been spacing out standing in line at the newspaper counter on 44th and 5th, and he hadn't even heard the newsstand guy call his name.

"Sorry, Joe," Link said, stepping up to the counter. He stopped by this newsstand almost everyday, and Link knew it was becoming something of a morning habit. However, he briefly wondered when the news guy had picked up his name. He did not remember ever introducing himself, but they had been at it for a while.

"The usual, Larkin?" Joe asked, although it sounded more like _Lawkin _behind the heavy New York accent. Meanwhile, Joe had already started to grab a copy of the _Baltimore Sun _and a bottle of coke.

"Yep," Link said, nodding.

"I still don't get why you want the Sun," he said, through a laugh. "You know were not in Baltimore, kid.

"Yeah, I- I know," Link said, through a stammer. "It's a better paper than the _Times_, though," Link murmured, throwing his typical 35 cents down on the little counter. Joe only laughed harder at this.

"Whatever you say. As long as you pay," he said, taking the change, about to give him the newspaper. However, right before handing it over, he paused, suddenly looking around Link as if he was expecting someone else to be there.

"Hey, where's that pretty gal you brought around here this past weekend? She left you already?"

Link winced at this statement, as a jolting memory of Tracy getting on a train yesterday hit him square in the chest.

"No, uh, not yet. She just had to go home," Link replied, reaching for the newspaper. Joe still held it back though, obviously on to something.

"Wait a second…I get it!" he exclaimed suddenly. "Your gal's from Baltimore ain't she?" he said, tapping the paper.

Link said nothing, but gave up trying to grab the paper, looking down, embarrassed. Joe was laughing again.

"We got a certified romantic here!" he said to the customers waiting in line behind Link. Link dared to turn around to look, and noticed none of them were amused. The lady right behind him was checking her watch pertly. Link coughed politely, turning back to Joe.

"Joe, the paper?" he asked.

"Oh yeah, here you go, kid," he said through a grin. Link took the paper quickly, nodded to Joe, and started walking, still pretty much embarrassed. Only as he turned the block did he breathe out frustratingly.

Yeah, he loved being reminded his girl was now three hours away from him back in Baltimore and no longer by his side first thing in the morning. _Just loved it. _

Letting her go had been hard. Last night had been worse. He had called her twice, written an entirely too-long letter and had watched a rerun of _The Defenders_ by himself. And when he had finally, albeit reluctantly, tried to go to bed, all he had been able to smell was her perfume. He was obsessed, and he was completely unable to wrap his head around the idea that he would be without her for the next two months.

He started to pick up his pace as he walked. He needed a distraction, something, _anything_, to save him. The fact that Tracy was not here with him was all he could think about, and at this rate he would never make it for as long as it was supposed to be until they saw each other again. He walked forward with a purpose, intent on throwing himself into work today. If there was any distraction in the world that was going to work, it was dancing for 12 hours straight. Although, even with this reason, he seriously doubted Tracy would be far removed from his mind.

* * *

"And one and two and three and four. Keep on the beat! Ignore the tech crew! Mr. Welch what are you doing? I'm pretty sure I never taught you that move before! One and two and THREE and FOUR! Ugh, cut, just… cut!" Ms. Frasier, their latest choreographer, shouted.

There was a general sigh of annoyance from the room as the choreographer halted the dance yet again. Everyone was tired, cramped, and frustrated. Not to mention burning up. Link had thrown his jacket and tie off a long time ago, as with most of the other guys, and had his sleeves rolled up on his arms. Today the whole tech crew was assembling the stage with lights, trying to work around the dancers. It became obvious very quickly that there were too many people up on the soundstage.

Meanwhile, beyond the fact that two dancers had tripped over equipment and Buddy Greene had been hit in the head by a ladder, most of the dancers themselves wanted to kill each other. That, or the choreographer, for certain. Everyone was messing up. And every time someone messed up Ms. Fraiser stopped the dance. Needless to say it wasn't very efficient. And this dance wasn't easy. This was a big, finale sort of number, with a whole lotta different cues and sequences. Everyone was having trouble getting it right.

Link was noticing that the choreographer had very little patience for anything that wasn't perfection, and no matter how good she was with choreographing a number, her constant stops to fix things were slowing them all down. At this rate, they'd never get out of here.

Link shifted his weight to the other foot, while wiping some of the sweat off of his forehead. Despite the increasingly late hour, the dangerous lighting, and heated conditions, he was grateful for a few things. One, they weren't in costume or makeup. So, even if it was sweltering hot, at least he didn't have to deal with being all that uncomfortable. Two, he had been bracing all morning with having to deal with Ace, particularly after the episode on Friday. However, when he had entered the studio, fists up and ready, he had found it completely void of his enemy, and despite her perfect attendance record in the past, she had been absent the entire day. And of course the third reason he was able to see the good in today: dancing was doing exactly what he had hoped it would do- it was distracting him from Tracy's obvious absence. So, with these reasons at the forefront in his mind, he found no point in complaining.

Everyone else was not so hung up on the positive.

"Jesus Christ, this woman is insane!" he heard John whisper to Bruno.

"This is so ridiculous!" Laurie said under her breath, not before shooting a glance at Link.

"Please, please Ms. Fraiser, can we take ten?" Darling was brave enough to speak above the whispered complaining from her spot in the corner. She was now sitting down and cradling an ankle. The choreographer instantly rounded on Darling. Darling was probably the most outspoken of the group, and her constant complaints were obviously starting to have a toll on Ms. Frasier and her ever-constant need for perfection.

"Ms. O'Dell, just because your father will be hosting does not mean-"

"Ms. Fraiser," a new voice said, coming out of the production booth. All the dancers whipped there head around to see who might potentially be their savior. None other than Caroline Goddard walked forward, also an annoyed look on her face. She had been flown in this past weekend and was now attending most of the rehearsals; however this was the first time she had been out of the production booth for more than a few seconds.

"I think it's time to give them a break," she said.

"But... Ms. Goddard-" the choreographer protested.

"Production thinks so, too. 30 minutes ought to do it." Caroline said through a smile, although through her tone Link knew she meant business.

"30 minutes?! Ms. Goddard, with all due respect that's a whole dance worth of rehearsal time. We only have until-"

"Ms. Frasier," Caroline said, holding up her hand. "We don't want to burn the dancers out. Also, with Mr. Greene's injury today, we think it's best to clear out the tech crew before we start back up again. A 30 minute break is best for everyone" she said. And then, not waiting for a response from Ms. Frasier, she turned back to the dancers. "Dinner break for everyone, half an hour," Caroline called out.

There was a collective sigh of relief from the room. At first, a sort of quiet disappointment surged through Link, but as he started to walk off the stage toward the door, the exhaustive pain from his muscles started to kick. He hadn't even realized that he, too, was tired. By habit he instantly started to move to his dressing room purposefully. His body could use the break, but his mind was going to start to wonder. If he was going to have 30 minutes of free time and dancing was not there to distract him from his thoughts…he was going to call Tracy.

He had almost made it to the hallway door when he heard his name shouted from someone still on the soundstage.

"Larkin! Hold up!"

He almost kept walking. Almost. Even though he had dodged having to talk to Ace, he had also miraculously gotten away with not talking with anybody else about the incident on Friday, either. Honestly, although he was hardly sorry for what he did, he wasn't sure what the other dancers now thought of him.

But at the sound of his name being called, he realized that his blind hope that the topic would not come up was probably in vain. That made him stop, and the memory of what Tracy had said to him this past weekend now made him turn around. _You really should try to be friends with them. _

"Yeah?" he said. Not surprisingly, Bruno and his gang of followers, John Welch and Norman Wheeler were the culprits. Usually Buddy Greene was with them too, except Link was pretty sure he was lying down somewhere with a concussion after the ladder incident.

"Hold on a second!" he said, walking over to Link, the others close behind.

"What for?" Link said, somewhat rudely. Link was more than a little wary of what Bruno zeroing in on him meant. Frankly, Bruno reminded him a little bit of his past self. He was taller than Link, with lighter a shade of brown hair, but he was cocky, arrogant, the leader of the group… and to top it off quite the ladies' man. All things Link had been at one point or another on the Corny Collins Show. And now Bruno was running after Link like he was his biggest fan… and this made Link nervous.

"Well, Friday, crooner! We were down at Mick Mack's this past weekend talking about it! You've been so quiet all this time and then like _wham_, you were all over Ace last Friday. Where in the hell did that come from?"

Link looked from Bruno to John to Norm.

"Friday?" Link said nervously, trying to put off the subject. At this point he wasn't sure if Bruno was going to try and pound him for insulting Ace or pat him on the back for a job well done.

"You put Ace in her _place_ man!" Norm said.

"No one does that," Bruno said, still looking down at him with now what Link had pinpointed as some type of strange, off-putting admiration.

"What do you mean _no one does that_?" Link asked._ She was a Ballerina for Christ's sake. Not Godzilla. _

"John do you know anyone who ever has talked back to Ace and gotten away with it? Like ever?" Bruno asked his friend.

"No. No way," John said.

"You see?" Bruno declared turning back to Link, as if this somehow settled the matter. Link rolled his eyes a little at all of this, thinking that was a little too dramatic.

"Come on guys. It wasn't that big of a deal. Sure, Ace is tough …but I wasn't going to let her walk all over me."

"That's why it's so _cool _man, most people let her walk all over them. But not you," Bruno said.

Link bit his tongue turning this over in his head. So people had _liked_ what he had done. Bruno, in particular, was congratulating him for sticking it to Ace. Link wasn't sure what he thought about this. He had said what he had to Ace because he had had enough from her for one day and she had deserved it. But he thought this would have definitely counted against him. Ace was popular, wasn't she?

"I thought you_ liked_, Ace," Link said cautiously. At this point, before Link could get an answer, they were interrupted, as the blonde Darling, who had miraculously recovered from her sore ankle and instead had obviously been eavesdropping on their conversation.

"He does," she said, coming dangerously close to Link, pulling on his lapel. "But Bruno's not man enough to talk back to her," she whispered. Link cleared his throat at backed up a little, while John and Norm snickered.

"Alright, alright, Darling, back off of Link," Link heard Bruno say. Darling obliged, but not before throwing Link a pearly, white smile. After she had sauntered off, Bruno put a hand on Link's shoulder.

"Ignore her. Look, the point is, it needed to be done. We just didn't expect you'd be the one to do it," Bruno said approvingly, before he walked past Link, headed towards the door, John and Norm following behind him.

Link stared off at the far wall for a moment, a little shell-shocked still. He hadn't guessed that this little maneuver would bring him up a couple of notches on the totem pole, even though that's what it looked like now. However, beyond his surprise, funny thing about was that it wasn't affecting him how he thought. He should be evasive, or even cautious at this new-found attention. That's what he had planned for, anyway.

But for one of the first times at the show, he wasn't being ignored, or at worse, laughed at. Instead he was being praised. For the first time since December, he was reminded of the Corny Collins Show. For the first time since December, people, beyond Tracy, wanted to know him, be around him again.

And he sort of liked it.

Right at that point, he heard Bruno call his name again from the doorway.

"Hey Larkin, we're going across the street to the Del for dinner. Sick of all this catered food. You coming?"

Link bit his lip. Perhaps…just maybe, a few friends, or at least acquaintances, on the show wouldn't hurt.

"Yeah," Link said, turning back around to them, a little smile on this face. "I'll go."

* * *

Tracy lingered just beyond the classroom door, and glanced inside the room cautiously. There it was. It was still there. Fourth from the left, three down.

She walked into the empty silence, and cautiously made her way over to it. For a moment, she hesitated, before moving a hand over cool metal. It was just like hers, it was just like all of them, but at the same time different. His empty desk. His absence.

Link wouldn't be here today to start the first day of her last semester back at school. She had known this, and yet she was starting to realize that witnessing it was going to be so very different. She moved away from his desk then and sat down at her own, still alone in the empty classroom.

She had given herself a pep talk before school. She would not get upset. There was nothing to be upset _about_. She and Link were about to embark on a happy future together, it just would take a couple of months to get off the ground.

_A couple months_. Tracy inwardly groaned. Two more months to be exact until she saw him again. It seemed almost too cruel to be true. She had to keep reminding herself that they had agreed upon this not as a method of torture, but because they knew that the more Tracy came up before she was there for good, the harder it would be for her to leave.

This might have been an ok idea in theory. So far, upon real-life application, she hated it.

As these thoughts swirled around her head, more students slowly began to fill in the classroom. They talked animatedly about what they had done on winter break, who was now dating who, and the homework they were all dreading being assigned. All the things that should be occupying her mind on an innocent and cold January day, but weren't.

Instead, all she could feel was the taste of his skin on her lips. The whisper of "good morning" in her ear. His smile when she helped him off the ice. The warmth of his hands encasing her own, despite the New York evening chill...

Suddenly, she felt someone tapping on her shoulder, and she realized that she had been so enveloped in her own world she hadn't even noticed someone was trying to get her attention. She was about to apologize for her day dreaming, until she saw who it was.

"Hi there, sweet thing," Chip said through a cheesy smile.

_Oh no_, Tracy thought.

Chip. Chip Coleman. The dancer who she and Link had been introduced to before Link left who had taken Link's spot on the Corny Collins Show.

So far, putting it bluntly, Chip had been a disaster. An hour after getting to know Chip, and Tracy had silently taken back everything she had said about him being the blonde version of Link. They were nothing alike. Link was suave, subtle, alluring and had a dark, wanting way of looking at her that made her go weak in the knees. Chip was... Chip was what Link would be like completely devoid of real human emotion, thought or feeling. He was a stock character. 2-D. Fake.

He was over the top, cheesy. He tried too hard, and was not a very good dancer. This, in particular, was problematic being that they were now the lead couple and she now had to spend extra hours after rehearsal was over show trying to work with him. It became obvious very quickly, however, that Chip would never, ever be on the same level as Link. And that was in more ways _than one_.

Chip, however, had a different opinion of himself. It seemed Link's cautious jealousy of this newcomer was not totally without just cause. Chip had seemed to taking a liking to Tracy, and he continuously and constantly tried to flirt with her, despite her outright dejection of said flirting. He had tried to give her a ride home from the show, he had asked her out to dinner, had even once attempted to throw an arm around her shoulder, which Tracy had immediately sloughed off.

She had turned him down again and again and again, and yet despite all the other girls that were chasing after him, he only had his eyes for her. Tracy had no idea why, but it was starting to become bothersome. And now, apparently, he was in the same class as her.

Tracy was void of salutations as she responded to him

"Did they put you in this class?" was all she said.

"Yes they did! And I get to sit right… behind… you… ," Chip said in a sing-song voice, making his way behind her now, headed towards the desk she had just stood over.

_No, no, no, no, no! _Tracy thought, even as Chip sat down in Link's empty seat. _You have got to be kidding me!_

"So, what were you up to this weekend, little darlin'?" he asked. Tracy winced at the nickname.

"Would you _please _stop calling me that?" was all she could say.

"Sorry, doll," he responded. Tracy rolled her eyes, exasperated.

"So?"

"So what?" Tracy replied, trying as hard as she possibly could to be civil towards him.

"So where were you this weekend?" he pestered.

"Not that it's much of your business, Chip, but I was in New York this weekend, visiting _Link_. My _fiancee_," Tracy said, showing him the ring on her finger for the hundredth time.

Chip only made tsking sound; he had not been a fan of such information, but this piece of news had not slowed him down in the slightest.

"Oh, no. Not _him_ again. I thought you guys would be over with by now," Chip declared.

"Not even close," Tracy mumbled.

"I don't know why you go out with that jerk. Who is he, anyway, to leave you all alone in Baltimore?"

At this Tracy actually turned around and looked at him. Chip was pushing it farther than he ever had before. Tracy felt herself getting angry now, which was typically rare for her.

"Chip- that is really _none_ of your business. And I'd appreciate it if you'd stop giving me advice on my love life. And for ANOTHER thing-"

"Ms. Turnblad," she heard a stern voice from behind her turned-back. Tracy shuddered slightly as she noticed Chip's amused expression had turned into one of alarm as his eyes stared at someone behind Tracy.

Tracy inwardly sighed. That was most certainly Ms. Cochran's voice behind her. It looked like class had begun and she was so busy fighting off Chip she hadn't even noticed. She turned around slowly to face the teacher, bracing for the worst.

"Yes Mrs. Cochran?" she muttered, as politely as she could muster.

"I don't know what kind of lady would raise her voice to such a level, but if you've noticed, class as begun. So would you please stop tormenting Mr. Coleman and pay attention?"

_What?! She _was annoying _him?_ Her anger flared once again, and she couldn't help what came out of her mouth next.

"But Mrs. Cochran! You don't understand! He started it-"

"Private detention, Miss Turnblad. For talking back," she said, ending the conversation right then and there.

Tracy breathed out slightly, almost laughing.

She should have known better. Mrs. Cochran never took any excuses. It seemed she had forgotten that Link wasn't there to kick her in the shin to get her to shut up, just as she had for him.

_Another reason I'm lost without you_, she thought solemnly, and flipped open her text book in silent defeat.

* * *

Later on that day Tracy went to lunch humbled, but far from content. Chip had not attempted to try anything after Tracy had been reprimanded, but she seriously doubted he had quit his chase for good. She was thankful for this respite, though, and now she scanned the lunch room eagerly, looking for familiar faces- some remnants of her life before Link had left.

She glanced around to what had been Seaweed, Penny's, Link's and her table, and was happy to find Seaweed and Penny there still, already eating. She breathed a sigh of relief and walked over to them gratefully.

"Hey guys," she said, setting her bag down on the seat next to her, refusing to once again think about who had occupied it before Christmas.

"Tracy!" Penny said, getting up and running over to give her a hug. Tracy laughed a little bit at her friend's spontaneity, but hugged her back, before sitting down.

"What was that for?" Tracy asked.

"You looked like you needed it," Penny said, through a small, yet concerned, smile. Tracy laughed a little again, but this time it felt empty.

"I'm fine, I'm sorry," she said, forcing on a feigned look of contentment. "I'm a little out of it. Just the first day back without him here, and it's been kind of hard to wrap my head around it."

"But you had fun in New York, right?" Penny asked through a hopeful grin. Tracy had already called Penny last night, in between her two conversations with Link, and had talked to her for an hour straight about everything. Tracy did truly smile at the memory of it for a moment, before answering her friend.

"It was perfect, it really was. He's doing so well there. But…it's just- it's hard to see him again and then have to be ripped away from it all after a couple of days, you know?"

Penny nodded her head in understanding, but she thought she saw Seaweed grimace at her remark. Tracy knew that they were preparing for it themselves, when Penny went to UM in the fall.

"Plus Chip has really been at it lately," she added, as she remembered this morning. Seaweed shot her a knowing glance, obviously very much aware of what was going on concerning the situation from the show.

"Wait, _Chip_? Link's replacement?" Penny said, trying to catch up.

_Link's replacement, Link's replacement, Link's replacement! _Tracy knew Penny had not meant anything by it, that's what they were all calling him, and Tracy wished they wouldn't. In her mind, Chip hadn't replaced anything about Link. Except now he was sitting in Link's desk during Calculus. That was about it.

"What's he up to now Tracy?" Seaweed said, still appearing more than a little concerned.

"He's just driving me crazy, as usual. He keeps asking me out again and again- and he keeps calling me all these little names...names that _Link _uses."

"Why don't you just tell him off?" Penny asked, looking disgusted by this information. Tracy frowned slightly.

"I've tried to politely…but now he's making me mad. I don't want to completely yell at him- we're partners on the show now... so we have to at least be civil to one another."

This was Tracy being more than gracious. Honestly, she just wanted to slap him in the face half the time.

"Does Link know about this guy?" Seaweed interjected.

"Of course he does, you introduced us to him," Tracy replied, trying to skirt around what Seaweed was getting at.

"No, I mean, does he know what's been up with you two since he left?"

Tracy gritted her teeth, hating how that phrase even sounded. The truth was, she had been sure to exclude that particular detail on their weekend getaway. It wasn't like she was necessarily _hiding it_ from Link or anything... it was just that Chip hadn't exactly been the forefront of her mind when she was in Link's arms.

"Errrr, no. He conveniently hasn't come up," Tracy said, and she hoped the smile on her face didn't look too fake.

"Trace, you should tell him. Maybe he'll have some advice for you," Penny replied.

"He'll just be on the first train back here to kill Chip," Seaweed said. Penny and Seaweed laughed a little at his remark.... but Tracy only frowned some more. Honestly? If Link knew the number of times Chip had tried to ask her out, she probably wouldn't put it past Link.

"Maybe, but I wouldn't want him too. Link's way busy at the show right now anyway and I don't want to distract him too badly."

Seaweed had stop listening however, as he stared at something at the far end of the lunch room.

"What?" she asked, turning around, and then wishing she hadn't.

Chip had just entered, surrounded by a gaggle of female girls from all grades.

"Good _grief_," Tracy said, crouching down in her seat.

"I think you're ok, he's way too distracted at the moment. You know though, I don't get why he's getting all this attention. He's not even a good dancer," Seaweed said, before turning a concerned eye towards Tracy. "Are you ok staying late at all those practices? I've thought about sayin' something a couple of times."

"He's not even a good dancer?" Penny asked, rather disappointed.

"He's ...alright," Tracy replied, biting her lip. "I've had to work with him a bit on some of the numbers."

"Way more than 'a bit'," Seaweed added.

"It's just…" Tracy trailed off, trying to put her finger on it. "It's just that fact that he's-"

"No Link?" Seaweed offered. Tracy's heart fell at this comment, even though it was the truth.

"Well, yeah, of course," she said, glancing over the vacant spot beside her painfully. As much as she liked talking to Penny and Seaweed, they were certainly laying out the truth in front of her today. And _true_ as it all was...it stung a little to see it all out in the open.

Noticing her guilty glance at the vacant seat, Seaweed patted Tracy on the hand.

"Hang in there, girl. Only a few months left," Seaweed said, trying to be consoling.

"That's what I'm worried about," she barely murmured, under her breath.

* * *

For the rest of the day, Link had become the center of attention. It seemed that after Bruno had made the first move, everyone now wanted to talk to the quiet guy that had quite unexpectedly taken a brave stand against Ace all the while moving her perfectly around the dance floor.

At dinner particularly, Link had noticed several of the other dancers had tagged along, and they all now wanted to get to know him. Link was engaged in real conversation for the first time since being at _Stepside_ and he found himself enjoying it. He still felt a little bit guilty that he had so easily broken his vow to remain distant, so as to not become vulnerable to impression, but with Tracy's words still in his mind, he tried to use her assurance as justification.

And he had found out, quite surprisingly, some of his first impressions of the dancers had been wrong. Some of these people were nice, and, beyond that,_ interesting_. They were from all over the country, and they all had a different story. Link had found more out in one short dinner break than he had in a month. Bruno's parents were rich, but beyond sending him to school they wouldn't give him a dime to help him out after and he was living in a pretty run-down flat in Brooklyn. Cinnamon Davis, one of Darling's friends, was from way down south in Mississippi, and had not witnessed a public place where things _weren't_ segregated. Darling was terrified that the show wouldn't do well, even with her father hosting, whereas Norm was hoping the show would fail, just so he could go back to his girl in Minneapolis.

Link was slowly finding out that these dancers were people, and perhaps he had been too hasty in his apt to judge the first things he saw. And, although he hardly had plans to go out and get smashed at Mick Mack's, talking to people during dinner, having someone to converse with during breaks, was certainly helping with the overbearing loneliness and alienation he felt at Tracy's leaving. And although Tracy was still constantly in the back of his mind, with people to talk to and concurrently distract him, he found that it was not so easy to completely succumb to the sweet memories of Tracy that would only pain his heart now that she was once again away from him.

At the end of rehearsal, they had all walked out together, a first for Link. It was fairly late, Link guessed around 8 o'clock or so, and everyone was eager to go home. As the group parted just outside the RCA building, Link had seen them off.

"Alright crooner, see you tomorrow," one of the guys said. Darling turned around and blew a kiss to him, while Cinnamon waved enthusiastically.

"Yeah, see you guys," he said, smiling.

They had all started walking away, but, after a moment, Bruno turned back and shouted, "Larkin, I don't know where you've been, but it sure is as hell good you're finally here!"

"Huh, thanks," Link said through an amused laugh, waving as they walked around the corner and out of sight. Link sighed, standing outside the RCA Building for a moment still, gathering his thoughts about today. He was excited to go home and tell Tracy about what had happened, but he knew he should really stop by the store first. Even though she was two months away from seeing him, he intended on having somewhat decent food in their kitchen the next time she visited. He'd take the long way back and stop at the store, he decided.

Just as he was moving away from the RCA building, however, a voice shouting his name from behind stopped him dead-walk, right as a shiver flew down his spine.

"Leaving so soon, Larkin?"

Link turned around slowly, almost nervous to verify who he had guessed had spoken.

Yep, he was right. Ace herself, the missing subject of most of today's conversations, was leaning up against the far wall of the building, stilettos on her feet and a smoking cigarette in her hand.

"Ace," Link barely muttered under his breath.

Link didn't walk any closer to her, unsure of what she wanted from him and quite honestly a little perturbed why she was calling his name. _What was she even doing here?_

The plaza was surprisingly not that busy, due more than anything to the biting cold. Ace, however, didn't seem to be bothered at all by the weather, despite her attire. She had no coat, and barely a jacket. She looked at him for a moment more, a smirk on her lips, before sauntering over to where he stood, taking her own, sweet time.

"If it isn't the man of the hour himself," she said, taking another inhale of her cigarette.

"You're a little_ late_ to work, Ace," Link said, a cautious, toxic tone in his voice. He was ready to take whatever she was going to throw at him. Ready and willing to throw it right back.

"I didn't feel like going today," she said, through a cynical chuckle at some untold joke.

"Then why show up at all?" Link inquired.

"I was curious," she said, now circling him a little bit, looking him up and down.

"Of what?" Link asked, making sure an impatient, off-putting tone was present in his voice. He had just been in a good mood- and although he had to deal with Ace during rehearsals, he really didn't have the will to deal with her during his free time. If Ace had sensed his discomfort, she ignored it.

"Of you," she replied. Link rolled eyes at this…now truly annoyed.

"Look, Ace, I don't know what you're talking about. I mean, I know I took it a little far with the ballerina comment and I'm sorry-"

"Apology not accepted," she snapped, cutting him off instantly. Link sighed out, all the more frustrated.

"Then what do you want from me?!" he said a little too loudly.

Ace said nothing, but laughed a little, obviously amused. Her amusement made him all the angrier.

"What?!" Link demanded.

"Nothing. It's just, wow, you're way too much like me." Link was instantly disgusted by this comment, and from the way she giggled, he was starting wonder if she was drunk. Or high. Or viably insane.

"I doubt I'm _anything _like you," he said bitterly. Ace only smirked.

"Oh, that one hurt. You really know how to treat a lady, don't you hotrod?" she taunted.

"Well you don't act like a lady, so…" Link grumbled, trailing off. At this, she seemed to actually get angry, breaking her amused, taunting routine momentarily.

"And how would you say I would need to act in order to be one, then? Docile and submissive? Is that the only way I'm allowed to behave in order earn your civility or does that kind of behavior just get you off or something? Why do I have to act a certain way in order to be a lady _anyway_? Seriously, Larkin, that's a little archaic, even for you."

"Look- I- I didn't say that-" Link began to protest. _What was it with this girl? And why did she bring out the worst in him?_

"But that's what you meant," she came back at him, although she was no longer smiling vindictively, but was staring at the ground in anger. He had really made her mad now, and he hadn't even meant it this time.

"Listen, I'm sorry. I just- I _really don't know _what you want out of me. I wasn't trying to be mean..." Link said, trying to remain as calm as he could at the ludicrous situation.

At this she took her eyes off of the ground and looked up at him again. "I know. You've been trying _real hard_ the past couple of weeks not to have any sort of reaction toward anyone. In fact, I was starting to get impressed- that is, until you completely blew?"

"You expect me to take your abuse?" he relatiated.

"No. I don't," she shot back. "I never expected you to. But… I thought you'd at least be above _this_," she said, waving her hand that held her cigarette around in the air.

"Above what?" asked, completely lost at her vaguest of vague inclination.

"_Crooner? It's sure is good to have you here?" _she mocked.

"You mean Bruno?" She continued to stare at him.

"What? Because I'm talking to people now? What's so wrong with that anyway?" Link bit back.

"Oh, _come on,_ Larkin. It's the same old story. Soon enough you'll be down at Mick Mack's binge drinking and waiting in line to fuck Darling O'Dell like the rest of them," she retaliated.

Link was almost surprised by her language. Almost. He realized, however, it was probably just a device to throw him off the subject- and he wasn't about to be deterred.

"_You_ go to Mick Mack's," Link pointed out.

"This isn't about _me_. I know I'm no good. I failed ballerina school, remember? I'm supposed to go out and get my hands dirty and be part of the grime. _You_, on the other hand," she said, blowing smoke in his face from one of the last puffs of her cigarette, all the while Link tried not to choke, "should_ know_ better."

Link only scoffed at her taunting, trying to ignore the fact that, slowly but surely, her words were steadily starting to chink through his armor.

"Y- you don't even _know_ me. Maybe I am just like them! What makes you think I'm so special, anyway?" Link spat, entirely too frustrated now for his own good. He had let her get to him, and it was showing.

He thought Ace was going to retaliate back with another snarky, back-handed insult, but instead she paused for a beat and simply looked at him. _Really_ looked at him. In that brief moment of time, Link realized it was the first point she had been standing still long enough to notice the color of her eyes. Green, for the record.

"Not special..." she finally murmured, still studying him. "Just… different. That's it. You're supposed to be _different_. You still are I think, despite all _this,_" she said gesturing to the RCA building, Rockefeller Plaza, all of it. With that, she broke her gaze, dropping her used cigarette to the pavement and snubbed it out with one, long spike of a heel and turned around to immediately stalk off in the direction of 6th Avenue.

"Where are _you_ going?" Link had yelled after her before he had even realized he had spoken.

"Home. I'm sure I'll be seeing you tomorrow. In the mean time," and with this she turned back around to him, although she continued to walk backwards down the street, "welcome to our club, crooner," she said, before twirling around the corner, now completely out of sight.

* * *

Link sat in front of the phone, his foot all the while tapping. He had been waiting for what felt like an hour straight now, and he was starting to really get worried. Tracy could not possibly still be at the show, could she? Link sighed in frustration, and took to standing and pacing in front of the phone instead.

It hadn't been a good start to the night. Although he knew he should not have let Ace talk to him for as long as she did, and he should have known that she would only cause damage and destruction in her wake, he had still, for some unknown, ungodly reason, let her.

Now, Ace's words were like an infection spreading through him, try as he may to rid her from this thoughts. She had taken it to a different level today- it was more than two dancer's egos getting in the way. For some reason, it seemed that she really, actually _hated_ him, although Link, for the life of him, couldn't guess why.

Although he wasn't even sure about half the stuff she had said, (some of it barely had made sense, as if she was laughing at jokes only she was aware of, and attacking monsters that were invisible to everyone else) the stuff that he had taken away from the argument had done a stand-up job of making him mad. Here he was, trying to take Tracy's advice, trying to stop being such an isolationist, and now he was being reprimanded for it from the supreme socialite herself? What did Ace expect him to do? Just sit there and be a hermit? Tracy was gone for the next 2 months. _2 months for God sakes! _How else was he going to handle it?

In the mean time, he had attempted to call Tracy twice, but both times he had gotten Mrs. Turnblad instead. Apparently she was still not home from rehearsal yet, and this only heightened Link's anxiety, as the desperate need to speak with overtook him. Tracy always had the uncanny habit of calming him down, taming his fears. Link had always marveled at her optimism; she could see the logic and the consequent good in_ any_ situation. And that's what he needed from her right now.

_If only he could get a hold of her._

On his third call to the Turnblad residence, Mrs. Turnblad had politely added that she would tell Tracy to call him as soon as she got home, and, in the mean time, perhaps it would be better to rest his persistent and futile attempts. Link had agreed out of propriety, but was on the verge of panic, still pacing back and forth in the tiny, cramped apartment.

It was past 10pm at night now. What could possibly be taking her so long?

Suddenly, right at this thought, the phone rang, and Link leapt towards the receiver like his life depended on it.

* * *

Three hours away in Baltimore, Tracy heard Link pick up the phone on the first ring.

"Hello? Tracy?" his voice sounded desperate through the phone. She had just walked through the door, exhausted, when her mother had rounded on her, asking her to please call her fiancé as he had attempted to contact her three times and was probably pacing by the phone this very minute. She had had not given herself time, instead, she dropped her bags and dialed his number.

"Hi," she said, through an exhaustive breath.

"Oh, thank god you called babe. Your mom said you were at the show late? Are you alright?" he asked, still a little frantic.

"Yeah, I was, I mean, I am," she said, stumbling over her words. "I'm fine. It was just really busy today."

"Why did the show run late?" Link probed. Tracy bit her lip- unsure of how much to go into. She had had a two hour detention with Cochran that had caused her to be late to the show. On top of that Chip was messing up on the majority of the dances and she was asked once again to stay there and work with him. Hence the late hour she had arrived home.

"We're learning a lot of stuff… and Chip needed help with his dancing," she said, and then instantly wished she hadn't.

"What? He needed help _again_? Why in the heck did they make him the lead dancer if he can't even dance?"

"I don't know, Link," she said, as she put her hand to her head as she sat down in the chair, her legs finally giving way from the exhaustion of today.

"Tracy you really need to stop helping him," Link rattled on. "As a guy, he really could get the wrong idea-"

"I think it's too late for that," Tracy murmured. For a moment, there was silence on the other end.

"What do you mean?" he finally said, his voice hesitant. Tracy braced herself, putting her feet up in the chair.

"Please, Link, don't freak out, ok? Its not been a very good day. I was late to practice, I got a detention for Ms. Cochran.."

"You got one of her private detentions?" Link asked, still alarmed. "How?!" he demanded. Tracy sighed. It was almost as if she was speaking to her mother.

"Chip was bothering me and I yelled at him right as class was starting," she continued on, before being stopped again.

"_Chip?_ What was he doing bothering you? Why was he even there?!" Link demanded. She hesitated for a moment, and decided to bite the bullet.

"He keeps trying to ask me out," she said.

"What?!" Link responded immediately. "Did you say no?" Tracy stared at the phone for a moment in shock at her fiancée's ridiculousness. Who did Link think she was? Amber?

"Of course I said no! What are you talking about? We're engaged! Which I've told him- a hundred thousand times! But he still won't leave me alone. Now he's sitting behind me in Calculus where you used to sit and he's got the same lunch as me.... and it's just, erggh. It's frustrating," Tracy finished. Link was quick to answer.

"If he lays one finger on you I SWEAR I'll come down there..."

"You're not coming down here," Tracy pleaded with him.

"I will, I swear I will and I'll find out wherever he lives-"

"..you're not coming down here.." Tracy continued to retaliate.

"And I'll ring his pretty little neck-"

"Link!" Tracy almost shouted in the phone to get his attention. "You're not coming down here. Goodness gracious! You're staying up there in your place. At the show," she ended, breathing hard her voice fragile and desperate.

"Well ok," Link said, breathing into the phone. There was another beat before he spoke again.

"But I still don't think I can wait two months…" he began. Tracy closed her eyes. _Please don't do this._

"Link-" she pleaded.

"Tracy, I really don't. It's so ludicrous up here. People on the show want to be my friends and I'm not sure if that's a good or a bad thing… And on top of that I let Ace really get to me today. She kept insulting me and blaming me for being different and…

"Link, slow down," she continued, trying to talk over him. Tracy didn't think he knew how close she was to unraveling.

"The show's going nowhere, my apartments burning up and living without you, especially after last weekend…well-"

"Link! Please!" she finally yelled into the phone making him stop once again.

"Don't talk about this weekend," she said into the phone.

"What?" Tracy could feel his hurt, abused tone. "Why?"

"Because if I think about it too much I go insane," she said. "I'll leave and come up there and never come back to Baltimore."

"Then why don't you? Why don't you just come up here?" Now Link was getting upset. He was five years old again, wanting somebody, anybody to love him.

"We talked about this," she warned. "Two months."

"But why? It's so hard for me when you're not here," he whined. For some reason, and she didn't know if it was her frustration of the day or the overwhelming confusion she felt over the situation, but for some reason, something snapped inside Tracy.

"Hard for you?" she barely whispered, panic in her voice. "Hard for you?!"

Link didn't say anything, but she could tell from the silence he was beginning to realize how upset she truly was now.

"How about _me?_' she continued on, unable to stop herself. "You know how horrible, how _hard_ it is to be _left behind_?! You're living your new life _now_ Link! You've got hope, promise, everywhere you turn. And me? All I've got are all your empty, vacant seats to stare at all day! Everything you left behind!" she said, her voice breaking.

She put a hand to her face and realized she was crying. _Perfect, _she thought.

"Tracy-" Link said, and she noticed he was through whining and was now trying to console her.

"Look, we both agreed that you need to focus on the show and...I need to focus on finishing school. Two months...we agreed on it. Two months..." she trailed off.

She put the phone down for a moment, wiping some more tears away, trying to get a hold of herself. _What was the matter with her?_

"Tracy? Are you there?" she heard Link's voice from the set-down receiver.

She had to remain strong for him. She couldn't let them throw away everything they were working for. If he came down to Baltimore too soon, he wouldn't leave. If she came up to New York too suddenly, she wouldn't go back. And that was the truth. She breathed in again, trying to toughen up enough to reassure him and end the conversation.

"Tracy?" Link was still saying on the line.

"Yes," she replied, holding the receiver up to her ear once more.

"Are you alright, darling? You can't get this upset. Doll, please, it's gunna be alright," Link said.

"-I'm ok Link. I'm fine, really. But I think I've got to go... I've got to get some rest." She had to get a hold of herself. He couldn't hear her like this.

Just as she expected, there was a steady stream of protests.

"Tracy, hun, sweetheart, wait- I'm sorry. I'll wait- I can wait two, three, _four_ months until I see you again if it'll make you happy! I'm–"

"-No, no you're fine... you're fine," she interrupted him. "It's nothing. Please don't worry about me. I'll be fine. I think I just need sleep. I- I'll talk to you tomorrow. I love you."

"Tracy, please-"

Unable to listen to his pleading voice anymore, unable to fight back- that's when she hung the phone up on Link Larkin.

* * *

She stared down at the receiver, unable to comprehend what she had just done.

Suddenly a wave of claustrophobia hit her, and, despite the fact the telephone was ringing once again, a sure sign Link was trying to call her back, she stood up. She needed to get out of here. She needed to escape, if only for a while. To be alone. To be herself. She'd call him back later. Reassure him later.

Before she knew what she was doing, she was flying through the living room, grabbing his keys and her shoes, the telephone still ringing in the background. She ignored it, and didn't even bother to put on a coat as she flew down the stairs and out the door into the cold, dark air. She got into Links' Cadillac quickly, jamming the key in the ignition. It groaned in protest as she tried to start it, and, as it finally it came alive, she threw it into drive and was instantly speeding down Washington street.

_What was he trying to do to her? _Didn't he know that with every plea, every whisper, he made her weaker? Didn't he know how close she was today to taking the first train to New York, forgetting about her high school diploma, the show, her parents? How close she was to dropping everything to be with him?

She had fought so hard for two months because she needed time to forget about him, to place him in the back of her mind. Phone calls she could deal with. Constant weekend visits she could not. Not when she had tasted what they were like. Until she had him for good, she needed to forget the feel of his skin on hers. The taste of his mouth on her tongue.

She was quickly becoming a stranger to the world around her and to her past self. Every time she tried to think of something else, the memory his touch from the two nights they had shared together convulsed through her, and she found herself needing him so badly she was gasping for air, barely able to stand. What had happened to her determination, her optimism, her strength? Had she, not even realizing it, left those pieces of herself behind in New York when she had decided to give everything to Link? Some fractured part of reason tried to calm her down, but most of today she had felt completely estranged from the girl she thought she knew.

When you give every part of yourself to someone, what can you hope to have left?

Tracy's foot pressed down on the accelerator, the cold, biting night air flowing in through the windows. Link had been wrong. She couldn't do it on her own. She needed him now to exist, and yet she still somehow was expected to go on existing without him. This, more than anything, terrified her.

The truth was she was paralyzed. Frozen and numb without him. She knew this now.

The truth was, for the first time in her life, she was helpless.

* * *

**AN:** **Sorry this took me a couple of weeks. Work during the summer kills. Hope you guys are enjoying the warm weather, though! **

**I know I switched pov's more than I normally do. That happened on purpose. Chapter 2 was really trying to show where they were both at with life after their weekend together. Normally it won't switch that much. Sorry if it was bothersome! **

**Hope it was ok! Expect Chapter 3 in roughly another two weeks. (But always could be sooner!)**

**Much love to all. As always, thanks for taking the time to read. ;)  
**


	3. Chapter 3: Dead Serious

***Pre-warning: This chapter contains adult language, and mild sexual adult content.**

**Chapter III: Dead Serious**

A hot, glistening drop of sweat rolled down his temple, stinging his skin as he circled once more around the dance floor. A fake smile was plastered on his face, but each and every muscle inside him begged for pause, pleaded for respite.

He couldn't concentrate. He was messing up. And this was not the point in the rehearsal when he should be forgetting his steps. They had finally put two whole month's worth of tentative choreography together, and tonight they were running weeks one through six. Six weeks worth of dancing in one night.

His feet were like lead, and it came as no surprise to him that he had just had stumbled over Darling's foot. She yelped in pain, but kept dancing, while Link shot her a pleading look of apology. She didn't seem to take it personally. Everyone was exhausted.

His mind screamed. Dancing on this ridiculous show was the last place he wanted to be right now. Today had marked yet another phone call with Tracy, and although they were once again on good terms, it had done little to ease the bad feeling in the pit of his stomach which had chosen to stay with him these last two weeks.

That night Tracy had hung up on him had been a long one. At first, he had tried to call her back. A sort of obsessive, desperate persistence had taken over him, and it wasn't until his fingers grazed the spin dial for the fourth time did he realize that not only was it not working, but he was reminding himself of Amber, who used to like to call people back repeatedly until they answered. Instantly, he felt horrible, and pulled his hand off the phone like he had been burned. If she wanted to talk to him, she would call him. And although he was still in a numbing phase of shock at being hung up on and now just wanted to apologize over and over again until she forgave him, he realized annoyingly calling back was probably not the best way to win back her affections.

Link had spent most of the following hours with his head in his hands, ensnared in a vicious circle of unanswered questions. He knew this past weekend had put everything in a new perspective. Sleeping together, especially in the apartment, had changed things for them both. Once getting a taste of a truly delectable future, it was almost impossible to swallow the bitter backwash of the present. He hated it. And Link was sure Tracy felt the same.

However, despite these realizations, the emotions behind why she was upset on the phone seemed to run deeper. There were things, new and different things, that she had said that made Link truly uneasy.

Instead of remembering the past weekend fondly, missing it but at the same time still placing hope in the future, Tracy had begged Link not to discuss it at all. This surprised Link, and to be honest, it was beginning to bother him. The more he took it apart and analyzed it, the more it sounded as if she wanted to completely put the memories from this past weekend out of her mind.

Like she wanted to put _Link _out of her mind.

And further still, when he urged her to come up here sooner, or for him to visit her, she stood firmly against it. She kept insisting on the two month absence that now stretched out before them both.

The more and more he thought about it, the more it seemed that Tracy was almost resentfulof missing him so much, particularly after their weekend together. It didn't make sense. It wasn't like Tracy. This is what he couldn't figure out for the life of him, what he couldn't begin to understand.

Finally, later that night, after Link had brooded for several sleepless hours, she had called him back. Link had taken to pacing his living room, just as before, and in a perfect _déjà_ _vu_ of earlier this evening, he jumped towards the phone when it had rang, completely certain of who was on the other line.

He could tell she was still upset. Just by the way she lingered on her vowels, and the pace at which her breath flowed from her mouth into the receiver he knew that she was still more than a little shaken at what had transpired.

"_Hello," Tracy said timidly._

"_Trace," Link replied, desperate to apologize for whatever he had done. "I'm so glad you called me back. Look, I'm sorry, darling. I didn't think- I didn't mean to make you upset-" he tried to finish, before she cut him off._

"_No," she replied. "You didn't do anything. It's me, Link. It was…just me…" she drifted off, leaving him confused. After a silent moment, he asked his next question carefully._

"_Trace, tell me what's wrong. Why did you hang up, doll? What's bothering you so bad?"_

_Silence on the other end. For a brief, panicked moment he thought she had hung up on him again. It was just then, however, that a little sob broke from the other end of the line and he realized, to his horror, she was crying again. _

"_Darling," Link managed to get out, cursing the fact that he was many miles away from her and not able to do any of things he really wanted to do. Stroke her skin, cradle her against him, kiss away tears. Helpless, all Link could do was grip the handset tighter. _

"_I'm…I'm sorry," she said through gasps. "I'm just so _mad _at myself, Link. And I took it out on you. I'm sorry. I just…I want you to know I'm so happy for you. I am, truly. I always have been. And I'm so happy to be with you also…probably too much. In fact…I think that's what's wrong."_

"_Trace…" Link attempted again, trying to make sure his voice didn't give away the sudden hurt, the tangled confusion he felt at her words._

"_No, I want you to listen, Link," Tracy said again. "I just...worry about myself sometimes. Ever since I left, I feel..." she paused, sighing. "I don't know how to explain. Sort of like- like a stranger, I guess. Like a stranger to everything. This past weekend, you gave me everything… and I know we didn't even have enough time to talk about what it meant…to understand…"_

"_I know…" Link added, desperately agreeing._

"_I had to leave so fast…"_

"_I know, doll. I know," Link affirmed._

"_And now, all I can help but wonder…" Tracy hesitated and he braced himself, suddenly scared. "Did I leave myself back there in New York? I mean, how can I be myself, be my own person, and be in love with you like this? Would I lose myself, if I lived for you?"_

_Link sat there on the couch in the darkened living room, his head in one hand, the other hand still clutching the phone to his ear so hard it hurt. He didn't answer. _

"_You're all I can think about and when you're not here…it kills me. It's like- I'm not my own person anymore. You said I can stand on my own two feet…but now, every single day that goes by without you, it's like I just keep stumbling, tripping...falling down." _

_Link was silent. He couldn't seem to speak. He was starting to understand what Tracy was saying now, as much as he didn't want to…but he was already rolling through the potential solutions in his head. To make everything better, to make everything okay._

"_I can be there," he finally said, deciding to try and fix it. "I can leave now. I can be there for you. You have me babe… you'll always have me-" he started, before she cut him off once more. _

"_No. I mean, I know…and I'm so happy for that. But I still want- I still want to wait… two months."_

_A pained feeling of staunch disagreement convulsed in his chest._

"_I went driving in your car earlier," Tracy continued. "I thought about it. I thought about us. And I want to see if I can do it. If we can do it. It's a test. I need to be stronger. There are going to be times, Link, when you're not there. Times when you're traveling, busy, whatever. It's not always going to be perfect. But I said yes to you. I'm committed to you. I'm going to marry you, for Christ's sake. And I've got to know that I can be myself. That I can be strong during the good and the bad times. Together and apart."_

"_Tracy…" Link pleaded, her full name he so rarely used tasting desperate on his tongue. What she was saying might have been true, but all Link felt was uneasy. _

"_I can do this. I have to do this. I have to do well in school; I have to graduate. I can't forget about that."_

"_I know," Link whispered. She was right. She had to be right._

"_Okay," he finally agreed. "Two months."_

In the end, hours after the conversation, he realized that he had said what he did for her. Of course he had. Deep down he was always going to agree with whatever would make Tracy the happiest (or at least the most satisfied). But as much he as knew he would always bend over backwards for Tracy's happiness, this particular time around Link felt slightly jipped in order to do so. He hadn't had a good day even before this had all happened, and although he was absolutely willing to put it all aside for Tracy, it was hard on his end too. He didn't think Tracy realized how much.

And although he now realized why she thought the time apart was necessary, and although this reassured his logic a little, it was doing essentially nothing to calm his typical, irrational fears. In the end, he felt as if he had not had a true stake in her decision.

The truth was, inside, he had been dragged through her reasoning, kicking and screaming like a petulant child the entire time.

Tracy may very well be strong enough to last two months without him, but Link was becoming steadily skeptical in his own ability to last two months without Tracy.

**

* * *

**

An hour had gone by, and now they were rehearsing a quicker swing-style couples song. Link and Ace had been paired up once again, and Link realized quickly that the steps they had learned were far more intricate and advanced than the other couple's. Link and Ace were definitely doing more work now, and it was taking a toll. Even Ace looked exhausted; her hair dangerously close to falling out of its bun and her stiletto heels long ago discarded from hours of rehearsal, and now was dancing barefoot.

The unsettling finality of Tracy's decision and Link's constant, worried thoughts surrounding it were doing very little to help Link's own dancing. He inwardly cursed as he missed another step, throwing Ace off. He murmured a quick apology under his breath to her.

Link's mind screamed, willing his muscles to focus. The night had to be almost over. He could make it. He just couldn't think about Tracy, because when he did that was all he could think about. Think about her too much, too soon, and dancing was definitely out of the question.

When Link didn't think about Tracy, Link could keep up with Ace. Which was becoming exceedingly important on many fronts. The truth was that, Ace might be a better dancer, perfect even, but at least Link was capable with keeping up with perfection.

And people were starting to notice this. The choreographer was giving them more complicated choreography. The production team had ordered five new costumes for them both. Caroline Goddard had somehow negotiated higher wages for Link once the show started, and somehow Link thought there was even more food in his dressing room than normal. Even Ace had stopped criticizing him some time ago and had become more serious about dancing with Link. He figured that Ace realized now that, as long as Link concentrated and Ace held her tongue, their dancing went to the next level. And this was important.

In the mean time, on the social front, this change certainly had not caused Link's popularity to wane. The dancers were becoming increasingly interested in him, and despite Ace's warnings, Link found himself spending more and more time with several of the dancers during breaks. From his conversation with Ace, Link didn't think she was giving everyone that fair of a break, particularly since he got to know them better. Most of the dancers were turning out to be not at all like evil caricatures Ace had painted, and right now it was a good remedy to help ease the queasy feeling in his stomach from being away from Tracy.

If Ace was disappointed Link had not taken her advice, she didn't show it. Instead, she had moved from casually annoyed with Link to indifferent, and seemed to take his newly placed presence in the group in stride. On a few occasions shehad even started to include Link in on conversations, although this was hardly comforting to Link.

Her behavior, particularly that after their skirmish that day outside the RCA building, was always more than a bit puzzling. Link wasn't sure if she hated him, was annoyed by him, was testing him, was mocking him… None of these seemed right, but none of them seemed out of the realm of possibility, either.

When confronted with Ace, most of the time Link didn't know how to act. In front of most of the girl dancers, it was easy to be his old crooner self, at least to a certain extent, but with Ace…he felt, well, fake. It was as if she saw things in Link he himself could not see. And he wasn't sure if those things were good or bad, right or wrong.

In the end, either way, he realized he just shouldn't care what Ace thought of the more he had to talk with Ace, the more he had to deal with her, and the more it annoyed him. He found himself wishing for once she would give him a straight answer, a straight emotion, so he would know whether to hate her or tolerate her. Ignore her or deal with her.

He felt a sharp pang in his heart as his thoughts settled on Tracy once again. He never had to guess how Tracy was feeling. He always just knew. At a memory of her last weekend lying in bed, her sweet chestnut hair draping over one shoulder as she smiled up at him, Link found himself accidentally swinging Ace out in the wrong direction.

Link silently scolded himself again, even as the music slowed down, and _Ruby Baby _was ended. The muscles in his body hummed with anticipation. There was one song left. The last song of the night. _Hey Paula._ If he could make it through this, he could make it through anything.

He could do this. He just couldn't think about her.

_Hey Paula_ was currently at the top of the charts and it was playing everywhere. It also just happened to be a slow, soulful romantic duet. And the dancing reflected that. Link breathed out, as he stepped closer to Ace, and she rested her head on his shoulder, just as the choreographer had instructed them.

If talking to Ace every now and again was disconcerting, dancing with her like this blew it out of the water. He realized it was an act, a skit almost, but Link still felt awkward during dances like this. She had actively stopped being an enemy, but she certainly wasn't his friend, and during these dances he had to treat her like a lover.

As he danced slowly with Ace, spun her around, held her waist, and dipped her low to the ground…he wasn't thinking about Tracy. He wasn't thinking about the way she laughed with her eyes, or the way she felt under his hands. He wasn't thinking about the way she would laugh when he would endearingly lean on her shoulder, or the way her hair shone in the winter light. And he definitely wasn't thinking about that weekend a couple of weeks ago when this exact song had played on the radio in the background, during their love making.

He wasn't thinking about that _at all. _

The song continued on, and Ace came close to him again, running a hand down his back, just as she had been instructed to do several days before. Ace was being professional, Link was losing it. His pep talk to himself hadn't worked so well. All the intimacy of the dance did was remind him of Tracy again. He closed his eyes softly as he breathed Ace in, wishing more than ever before that it was his fiancé he was holding instead. Meanwhile, images of Tracy continued to flash through his mind.

If somehow he could just make it better between them. Tracy didn't want to lose herself in him. She wanted to be her own person. She wanted to live _with_ Link, not live _for_ Link.

But what if the _opposite_ was true with him? What if he didn't want to be his own person? What if he _needed _her? She was his purpose for waking up in the morning, the reason he danced on this show. He fought his battles for her, in avocation for her, because of her. He _wanted_ to live for her. Was that so wrong?

Suddenly, he wasn't dancing any more. He stopped, right then and there, just as the song was ending and he was supposed to be twirling Ace around one final time to the finale. He couldn't move any more. He couldn't do it. His muscles refused to work, crumpling into these last, desperate thoughts. He had started thinking about her, and now he couldn't stop.

Meanwhile, Ace had stopped dancing as well and now was staring at him. Surprisingly, she didn't seem mad, but worried.

"Link," she whispered urgently, trying to wake him from his daze. One hand was still on his back, the other in his hand, but as his grip loosened, so did hers, and she finally dropped her arms.

"Link?" she asked again, and he was sure everyone's eyes were on him.

Link swayed for a moment on the spot where he stood. Perhaps it was exhaustion. Perhaps it was because he felt sick. Perhaps he just missed her so much it was making him exhausted and sick. But he knew he couldn't do anymore of this tonight. At all. After fifty six songs, and only two breaks, he was done.

"Excuse me," was all Link said, before slowly walking off the sound stage, away from the dancers, away from the producers, away all of it. He made his way to his dressing room, in total defeat, in total silence.

**

* * *

**

He cringed at his reflection in the many mirrors adorning his dressing room. He wished there weren't so god damn many of them. Especially, particularly, when he looked like this.

He figured he would probably get in some type of trouble for the little stunt he had just pulled, even if it had been at the very end of the set. What had Ms. Frasier told them a thousand times? Something about the ending, the finale was the most important because that's the last thing people remember.

But Link found himself not really giving a damn. He couldn't dance like that with Ace anymore. Not when he couldn't get his mind off Tracy.

Now that he had stopped dancing his muscles were on fire, ablaze from being abused. Grimacing in pain, he slowly walked over to the corner sink and threw some water on his face and the accompanying stubble, he realized he hadn't shaved in a couple of days. He hadn't even noticed.

Grabbing a towel off the rack, he buried his face in it for a moment, sighing, trying to get a hold of himself. He would have to do better than this. Six more weeks left and he was already falling apart. He sure as hell hoped Tracy was happy.

Suddenly, a not-so-friendly image of Tracy dancing in the arms of Chip to the song _Hey Paula_ flashed through his mind, and Link clenched his jaw tightly as he brought his head back up to look in the mirror again. Fierce blue eyes alight with new-found rage stared back at him.

He knew Chip was a source of constant annoyance for Tracy, but at the new discovery of his sneak attempts to steal his girl a rage of anger took hold as Link considered how much Chip would really be missed if Link beat him to death, or at least to the point of no recognition.

They'd better not be dancing to that song back at home. Another flash of Chips hands on Tracy and Link almost doubled over with nausea. If Chip so much as touched her…

But if he thought about it reasonably, a more logical and cynical part of his mind argued that if it wasn't that song it was surely another. Somewhere and at some point today, even if Tracy hated Chip, they still probably danced together just like he and Ace had.

Everything would have been fine if he hadn't taken this stupid job. He'd be happy as a clam back in Baltimore with Tracy blissfully unaware of Chip, or of Ace, or of how it felt to be told that you had to stay away from your fiancé for the next fucking two months.

Link knew he was being selfish. He knew he should act calm, collected, and stop the war path that he knew wasn't making a lick of sense to anyone around him. But he couldn't seem to help himself. He couldn't seem to stop.

Suddenly, there was a knock on his dressing room door, despite the fact that it was open.

"Hey… Larkin," Bruno said from the doorway. He looked mildly alarmed, as if he was almost afraid to enter.

"Hey," Link said back, setting down the towel, not even embarrassed by his unintended advertising of pain that had reached the hallway.

"You ok?" Bruno was asking. "You know you just sort of walked off stage, right?" Link only sighed. Yeah, he was aware.

"Producers mad?" Link asked simply.

"No, not at all, man," he said. "Actually Caroline thinks you bailed due to exhaustion, so she stuck it to them. We actually get two more added breaks because of what you just did," Bruno said through an empty laugh.

"Swell," Link said flatly. There was a beat of silence. Bruno still lingering in the doorway, Link waiting him for him to either speak or leave him the hell alone.

"Hey Larkin?" Bruno finally said.

"Yeah?" Link replied.

"I know you always say no. But… I'm going to ask anyway. You need a drink? A couple of us are going to Mick Mack's tonight."

Linked stared at Bruno for a moment, then glanced back at his reflection in the mirror for a split-second. His hair was sideways, there were dark circles underneath his blood-shot eyes. He hadn't shaved. All-in-all, he looked lousy. He _looked_ like he needed a drink. He turned back to Bruno.

"Nothing sounds better," Link replied suddenly, sort of surprising Bruno, but really surprising himself.

"Are you serious?" Bruno asked, a somewhat skeptical tone still in his voice. Link had never agreed to go out to the bar before.

"As a heart attack," Link said grimly. "Give me ten minutes, round up the gang, and let's go."

**

* * *

**

**AN: ****Yeah, so, what's with me waiting almost a month to post, and then when I do it's only 4,000 words long? Lol. :)**

**Sorry about that guys. I'm trying something new out. I'm breaking up the chapters up a little, making them shorter but giving you more. I know some people hate that. But if it's any consolation, it's for my freaking sanity. :) I'm getting way too bogged down in these 11,000 word chapters. I can't remember what I wrote in the beginning, they take me weeks and weeks to write, and I don't think I'm utilizing the idea of a chapter as a desperately needed literary tool in my story enough. So, instead: shorter chapters, quicker updates and more... dum dum dum...**_**cliffhangers! **_

**This may not work. I might very well end up falling into my old ways. We'll see. The bar scene's next. Update within a week or so. Sorry Link was emo again. I promise comic relief is on its way soon.**

**Thank you so much if you took the time to read and/or review. You guys rock my socks off! Also, HUGE Kudos to Mel for being my beta!!! She's workin' hard to make sure my story doesn't suck. Lol. **

**Thanks guys. Much love. **

**Oh, and Happy Anniversary. Hairspray came out two years ago today. ;)**


	4. Chapter 4: Be a Man, Already

**Pre Warning: This chapter contains mature adult language and drug reference.**

**Apology: Sorry for the multiple uploads. FFN was giving me some trouble. **

**Chapter IV: Be a Man, Already**

His mother killed herself one misty morning in April. His father, in an embarrassingly cliché act of defiance, had chosen to deal with it all by making friends with the likes of Paul Masson and Jack Daniels. Drowning his sorrows in brandy and whiskey every day and every night until it eventually killed him.

Link didn't know exactly what he was doing. He had always had this personal vendetta against alcohol, most of the time. But as he made his way down 5th Avenue to Mick Mack's, trailing behind Bruno, Darling, Cinnamon, and Buddy, Link found his mind shutting out the voice of reason. The voice reminding him of _why not._

He closed his eyes. The cold wind of the night air had numbed some of the hot, blistering confusion the sound stage tended to induce. Being outside, away from the studio was helping. But it certainly wasn't going to be enough.

The truth was that he had an over-obsessive urge to feel something else than sting of Tracy's absence. He was sick of feeling helpless. Locked up and caged. A fly to fly paper.

And alcohol could mean escape.

Meanwhile, the street was still alive with passersby and dotted taxi tail lights making their way uptown. Shoppers darted here and there on 5th, bells ringing as shop doors opened and closed. Red and white paper cut-outs hearts and cupid's arrows hung in windows. Heart-shaped candies and boxes of chocolates adorned most displays to lure customers inside. Vendors were selling roses of every possible color on practically street corner.

Link picked up his pace to catch up with the others, trying to keep his gaze straight truth was he didn't know how to deal with the fact Tracy wasn't here. He didn't know how to get rid of the dull, constant heartache he felt. And he certainly didn't know how he was going to deal with walking past these Valentine's Day decorations for the next few weeks.

The truth was, he was at a loss of how to deal. So, instead of dealing, he was going to forget. For one night, he was about to ignore his principles and forget about being alone. Forget about not having her here. Forget about everything and just... drown.

And yeah, he knew drinking probably wasn't the cure. But he was hoping beyond hope it would be one hell of a band-aid.

**

* * *

**

Mick Mack's was exactly what he had expected it was going to be. It wasn't necessarily a dive bar, but it sure wasn't boasting to be much of anything else, either. However Link had known from many an overheard conversation that the bar's aesthetics were not really the point. The point was that there was music, dancing, a lot of alcohol, and no one checked for IDs. Essentially, a minor's treasure trove. A paradise of irresponsible drinking and bad decisions.

Link was just grateful to see there weren't any Valentine's decorations.

The place was surprisingly almost empty. It was small, and the lights were barely lit. The actual bar area itself took up most of the place, but a small dance floor adorned the back right hand corner of the joint. Upon entry, Darling and Cinnamon had flocked to this spot immediately, already stripping off coats and scarves to dance to some old 50's tune sputtering out from a record player in the back that looked more like a phonograph. Link briefly wondered why they would want to dance after coming from a whole day of doing exactly that, but he wasn't about to openly criticize them.

"Welcome to Mick Mack's" Bruno said, slapping Link on the back as they made their way up to the bar. "Finally," he added through a grin. Link didn't reply, but awkwardly took a seat at the bar with Bruno and Buddy. Link had actually never sat at a bar before, and it was proving to be a strange, surreal sort of experience.

"Is this all who's coming?" Buddy asked. Bruno shrugged his shoulders.

"Everyone's dead tired from today. John, Norm and a couple of the other chicks might show up. Reed wanted to go but I threw him off of our tracks. Told him we were going to Clancy's," Bruno snickered, and at this Buddy laughed along.

Link didn't know much about Reed. He wasn't a very good dancer. He was always late, he left early. He missed half of the rehearsals. Beyond that, all Link gathered was he was the token druggie of the group. That and no one like him. Link wasn't sure if this was because of his apparent addiction or not, he hadn't cared that much to figure it out.

Just then the bartender, a balding man who looked like he had never seen a pleasant day in his life, came over to him. At best he looked creepy and at worst he seemed like the type of guy that would mug you in alley. A small shiver went down his spine and Link tried to remind himself that this is what you got when you were expecting the bartender not to card you.

"What'll you have, boys? Regulars?" he barked at Bruno.

"'Course, Mick. Double scotch," Bruno said, tapping two fingers on the table. Link briefly wondered if there was a Mack too, but decided it probably wouldn't be cool to be curious.

"And how about the new kid?" Mick asked. Meanwhile, both Bruno and Buddy turned to Link, waiting for him to answer.

Link didn't know anything about mixed drinks. He knew about full bottles of Captain Morgan and Maker's Mark. He knew that what you ordered said a lot about you, but Link wasn't really up for that particular game just yet.

"Same," Link said, playing it safe.

"Good choice," Bruno joked through a smile before turning back to the girls.

"Hey Dar! Cinn! What do you want?" Darling noticed Bruno and came up to him instantly, slinking an arm around him. Link cleared his throat, the nature of their relationship becoming crystal clear in that moment.

"Oh, you know, whatever, baby," she said. "But what I really want is for you to dance with me." Bruno rolled his eyes.

"We just finished dancing for twelve hours," Bruno whined.

"Oh come on, Bruno. Not the way we like it. Let's go!" she exclaimed, now pulling on Bruno's arm. Just then Mick came back with three double scotches on the rocks.

"Mick, sorry to put you to work, but another around of those," Bruno said, twirling his finger in the air before taking grabbing the drink and downing it. He slammed the glass down on the table and then got up from his chair.

"Women, I tell ya," Bruno murmured to Link before being pulled off in the direction of the dance floor.

Link looked to Buddy for condolence, but noticed he had disappeared to the dance floor as well with Cinnamon.

The fact that Link was now alone at the bar was right about when he noticed he was a fifth wheel. Breathing out frustratingly, he turned back to his double scotch, turning the glass around in his hands. The amber liquid in the glass sloshed back and forth, dancing over the ice. He didn't drink it, but simply sat there a moment. After a minute, he could feel eyes on him, and he looked up to see the bartender staring at him.

"You sure you big enough to handle a drink like that kid?" Mick asked. Link scoffed a little, suddenly on the defensive.

"What makes you think I'm not?" Link asked, probably coming off a little too harsh. He didn't really care. It had been a bad day.

"Jeez, kid. Don't have a damn cow. None of my business, anyway," Mick said, before shuffling off to the other corner of the bar.

Link sighed a little, and turned again to look at the dance floor. Bruno was mashed up against Darling in a way the would have made Ms. Von Tussle have a heart attack. John and Cinnamon were in a similarly compromising situation.

This was steadily becoming worse than the Valentine's day decorations. With that thought first and foremost in his thoughts, Link made up his mind and pressed the cool glass to his lips, downing the double in one swallow.

**

* * *

**

A half-hour later John and Norm along with several other girl dancers had shown up, making the distribution a little more equal and the situation a little more bearable.

Link had mainly kept to himself, but had slowed down a bit on the drinking. He was currently nursing a beer now. Although he was far from drunk, he had chosen to leave the hard liquor behind, the burning sensation of scotch blasting his throat not really that satisfying of an experience.

Bruno had other ideas. Link was pretty sure Bruno was on his third double, although he had been back and forth from the bar a number of times. So it could have been more; it could have been less.

Currently, Bruno has just torn himself away from Darling long enough to sit down with Link again.

"Larkin! Why are you moping in the corner?" Bruno noted loudly.

"Had enough dancing for one evening," Link said, through another swig of beer.

"Hell, man. I know a depressed drinker when I see one. You looked like you wanted to kill someone in that dressing room today. What's up with you? Someone steal your girl or something?

Link grimaced at this, but kept it together. For the most part, none of the dancers knew about Tracy. At first, this had been because he hadn't spoken with them enough to mention her. And recently, Link just felt uneasy mentioning her. He doubted talking about how Tracy was gone would help ease the pain he felt at her constant absence.

"Not exactly," Link muttered. Before Bruno could grill Link some more, though, a more-than-tipsy Darling O'Dell half-stumbled her way over to them, all the while laughing and giggling.

"It's my _sweetheart!" _she said to Bruno, clutching his arm. "Why do you keep leaving me?"

"I had to cheer Larkin up, babe," he said, motioning the glass in his hand to Link.

Link squirmed in his chair as she turned her attention and her drunkenness toward him.

"Ooohhhh, Link! Are you alright? Baby, sweetie, baby Link!" she said, stumbling over to where Link sat. She was suddenly hugging him so tightly Link was having trouble breathing. Link didn't hug her back, but awkwardly sat there until the moment passed.

"Uhh, thanks, Darling," he murmured, when she finally let go.

"I'm _so _glad you came out with us tonight. Aren't you glad he's here with us?" Darling asked, turning back to Bruno who had been observing Darling's awkward hug with amusement.

"Thrilled. I've been trying for weeks to get him to go with us," Bruno said. Darling, however, wasn't listening to him anymore. Instead she was making goo-goo eyes at Link again.

"You're just so adorable!" she squealed, before patting him on the head. Link almost spit out a swallow of the beer he had been drinking, while Bruno laughed uncontrollably. Finally getting a hold of himself enough to speak, Bruno choked out some words.

"Go Dance, Dar. I'll be there in a minute. Gotta finish this," he said, pointing to his glass.

"But who will I dance with?" she asked, through a pout.

"Why don't you ask Norm? He'll keep you occupied," he said.

"Oh," she giggled, turning back to Norm, who had actually been staring at her from across the room approvingly. "Okay!" she said, and toddled off towards the dance floor once more. As soon as she was out of ear shot, Bruno groaned.

"Thank God John and them showed up. I thought I'd have to deal with her the whole night," Bruno said, turning toward Link.

Link looked up at Bruno, somewhat surprised.

"Wait, I thought you-" Link stopped, and lowered his voice a little. "I thought you liked her," he said softly. Bruno laughed a little too loudly at this.

"Like her? Hell, Larkin. Who said anything about liking her?" he replied, through another swallow of scotch.

"What? You're just…fooling around with her then?" he said, frowning. Link suddenly didn't like where this was going.

"It's my turn," Bruno said through a cocky grin. "She's just another skirt, Link. And besides, it's just what you _do_ to Darling O'Dell. She'll sleep with anyone. Actually, I'd watch out if I were you. From the way she's admiring you, you'll probably be next."

Link's eyes widened. He couldn't believe Bruno was serious. He couldn't be. Link had never heard him talk about Darling or women in general that way. It was obvious the alcohol was bringing out the worst him. Right then, something that Ace had said that day out side the RCA building floated into Link's mind. _Soon enough you'll be down at Mick Mack's binge drinking and waiting in line to fuck Darling O'Dell like the rest of them._

Link suddenly felt sick.

"No way in hell," he finally muttered caustically. Bruno didn't seem to be at all offended by Link's off-putting tone. Instead, he polished off his scotch, and stood back up again.

"Well, more for me then," he said carelessly, before stalking off to the dance floor once more.

Link suddenly felt a little disgusted with himself. Ace had been right about Bruno, and Link had just now just realized it. Looking around the room, Link was suddenly suspicious. Was Ace right about the rest of them too? He hadn't really invested any validity in the warnings Ace had chosen to bestow upon Link, mainly due to the fact that she herself was often cold and insulting.

But that didn't necessarily make her wrong, Link realized.

He swallowed hard, and turned back to the bar. He didn't like where this night was headed. He was feeling light headed, and nauseous, even off of a double and half a beer. He felt himself starting to stand, until he noticed Mick was staring at him yet again from behind the bar.

"What?!" Link said frustratingly.

"Nothing, kid," he said, as Link realized Mick's eyes actually were settled on something behind Link.

"Leaving so soon?" he heard her say. Ace.

"Well if it isn't Mr. Link Larkin, down at the local beat-nik hotspot," she taunted as she came up beside him. Link scoffed again, unable to take any abuse she was ready to throw at him tonight.

"Give me a break. I was just leaving," Link said, before moving to pick up his coat from the back of the stool.

"Hold on, Tiger. Sit down. At least talk to me for a while so I don't have to dance with to this god-awful music."

With that, she plopped down next to him, expecting him to do the same. Link did so cautiously, finally taking in her appearance. She had obviously gone home, showered and changed. Link was having a hard time placing what was different about her before he finally realized she wasn't wearing the usual pants. She was actually wearing a dress, and it worked for her. It was black, racy number that accented her good features well, and it was obvious she knew it. Some other people were apparently aware of it too, because Mick the bartender was still staring at her.

Ace snapped her fingers to get Mick's attention, shooting him a nasty look. "Mick, could you get a hold of yourself and stop ogling me for five seconds so Mr. Larkin and I can get a drink?" she asked rudely.

Mick shook his head for a second; turning away from them both, obviously frustrated he had been caught.

"Usual?" he grunted.

"Yes, for both me and my buddy Larkin here."

"I'm not your buddy," Link protested from where he sat.

Ace turned and decidedly looked at him for a moment, nibbling her lip in thought with what she was about to say. Finally, she spoke, clearing her throat before she did so.

"Listen, Larkin. Let me give it to you straight. I'm guessing you've been here for about, hmmm, well, an hour or so. And all you need is about an hour at Mick Mack's to figure out what really goes on down here. So I'm sure you've learned a few things tonight about these people. Things that upset you. And noticing the fact that you were about to leave as soon as I got here, I really doubt you want to go back to your previous drinking party."

Link tried to say something, but she put her hand to his mouth, literally stopping the words from coming out.

"Let me finish. I can tell you still want to drink. You're pissed off. You were pissed off today during rehearsal. So unless you want to drink in the dark at home alone, you've only got me to talk to here. But, if you want to keep me around, I suggest you stop whining and moping, suck it up, and be god damn man," she concluded ceremoniously, before removing her hand. "Because, honestly Larkin, I only talk to _men_." And, with that, she genteelly took a sip of the red wine from the glass just placed in front of her, slipping back into the role of 'lady'.

Link's jaw was still slack. He was literally speechless, even if everything she had said was true, in a way.

He didn't respond, but at the same time he didn't think he had to. Just by shooting her a look it seemed that she knew that he realized she was right, and that seemed to be enough for her. So instead of rebuking any of her statements, Link took a sip of the wine in front of him, needing the alcohol now more than ever.

"You like it?" she said.

"It's…okay. A little weird after the scotch and the beer."

"Jesus, Larkin. You're just all over the board tonight," Ace noted.

"It's a night to celebrate," he said flatly. Ace raised her eyebrows at this, but did not push him for an explanation. If Link had told everyone else little of his personal life, he had told Ace absolutely nothing. For all she knew he had a harem of women back in Baltimore. And honestly Link couldn't imagine confessing his problems to the one person who had caused him the most aggravation since arriving in New York.

Although, he hadn't imagined drinking with her, either.

"So you just stormed out of there today," she said, after a bit of time.

"Sorry I didn't finish the song," he said, through another sip of wine.

"You know, that's okay. We would have gotten it right anyway. Besides, they worked us like dogs today. I'm assuming someone told you Caroline got us two more breaks a day because of you?" Link snorted at this.

"Yeah, big deal there. Like that'll change anything," he replied.

"I know," Ace said back sarcastically. "Welcome to the real world."

"I thought the Corny Collins Show was bad about not giving us break time," Link muttered under his breath.

"Wait, the Corny Collins Show? _Please_ tell me you did not come from another one of these ridiculous smile-while-you dance spectacles," she said through a bitter laugh. Link should have been offended, but for some reason he wasn't. Instead, he answered her truthfully, not the least bit combative.

"Yeah, I did. Back in Baltimore," he said, before completely finishing off the glass of wine. Ace snorted.

"What?"

"Nothing. So you want another glass of wine or should we just switch you back to scotch?" Somewhere in the back of his mind Link noted that it had taken only a couple of minutes to drink his entire glass, whereas Ace had only gone through about a third of hers. Surprisingly, or not so surprisingly, he didn't feel that different. He doubted he was drunk yet.

"Uhh. No. No scotch. A beer, I guess?" he said, trying to wave to Mick. The bartender however seemed to have taken up arms against Link, and was currently ignoring him by pretending to wash dishes. Realizing what was happening, Ace whistled lightly. At this Mick was over to them both in seconds.

"What do you need toots?" Mick asked.

"Another beer for Larkin, Mick. He's had a bad day." Mick only growled at him, obviously disappointed Ace didn't need anything herself.

"Thanks," Link said to Ace, ignoring Mick's pity party.

"Being a female does have its advantages sometimes," she said through a grin, before turning back to Link fully. "Now- the Corny Collins Show…is that right? I'm assuming cheesy dancing and singing' to America's most beloved billboard toppers?"

Mick handed Link the beer, which he instantly had a swig of.

"Pretty much," he said, setting down the glass.

"What? And you miss it now or something? Homesick?" she asked.

Link looked at Ace for a moment. This was by far the longest she had talked to him and he was having a hard time figuring out why. She looked…good. She could be flirting it up with any guy at the bar. And instead she was talking to Link. To mopey, depressed Link. The hot rod she loved to hate. Link wasn't sure if she had ulterior motives or not. And for some reason his mind right now could not even begin to analyze what they would be.

If anything, at least now he knew she didn't hate him. She was talking to him…almost like she cared. And for some reason, this wasn't freaking Link out. He found himself liking this. He enjoyed talking to someone in New York without feeling like he was always putting on a god damned act, even if it was Ace.

"I guess you could say that," Link finally replied. And then, through a bit lip, he added, "plus my fiancé is back at home."

At this, Ace almost spit out the sip of wine she had been drinking. She recovered nicely, though, and coughed politely into a napkin after that.

"That bad, huh?" Link replied, observing her reaction.

"No. I'm- I'm sorry. It just- I didn't expect it. That's all. So you're engaged?" she asked politely, although it looked like she was trying to keep it together from breaking into a fit of laughter.

"Yeah...yeah I am," Link replied, before taking another drink of his beer, regretting ever bringing up the subject. He wasn't quite sure what he had even mentioned it in the first place, he should have known Ace was going to react like this. Looking down at the beer suspiciously, Link moved it away from him a couple inches. Maybe he should be taking the drinking a little slower.

"How old are you, even?" Ace asked. No use in lying here.

"Eighteen," Link said, although now he was staring at the floor, bracing himself for her judgment.

"Jeez," Ace replied under her breath.

"Why does that matter?" Link asked.

"Sorry," Ace said automatically, generally looking like she was regretting her reaction she couldn't seem to help. This helped calm Link's nerves a little. "It doesn't matter, I guess. So this…_fiancé. _Does she have a name?"

"Yeah. I mean yes-she does. Tracy. Her name is Tracy," he said, and he found his voice softening a little, as he realized it was the first time he had said it aloud in weeks to anyone but his fiancé.

Ace didn't respond for a moment, and instead simply stared at him while Link slowly spun the icy glass around in his hands, feelinguncomfortable.

"And why is this Tracy not up here with you?" she finally asked.

Link gulped, bracing for a sharp pang of heartache. It didn't' come however, and Link realized as his thoughts slowly caught up with that absent feeling that he might, in fact, be drunker than he thought.

"She's in Baltimore," he responded literally to her question. Ace snorted again.

"I gathered that. But why?"

"She's- she's still in high school. I proposed before I left. We're the same age. I mean, I left school early to do this. But I didn't want to… leave without her knowing…how much she meant to me..." Link trailed off. A part of his mind, the part that was still processing at least bits and pieces of logic, realized he should not have been opening up his heart like this to Ace, even if she was being receptive. For all he knew she would tease him mercilessly about it tomorrow. But he couldn't seem to help himself for the time being. She was still listening.

"Hmmm," she said to herself.

"What?" Link asked, suddenly curious.

"Nothing," Ace said.

"No, what?" Link pressed. Ace was now biting her lip again, playing with the wine glass in her hand. Her long nails made little _clinking_ noises as they made contact with it, over and over again.

"I just… why did you have to propose to her? I mean, after she finishes high school... why doesn't she just come live with you in New York?" This confused Link. He wasn't catching her logic or reasoning behind her questions anymore, but he tried to respond, all the same.

"That's what she is doing. She's going to live with me," Link said.

"So, at eighteen, you really think that she's the one for you? I mean, like, forever and forever?"

Alarm bells went off in his head, and he knew she was taunting him again, but Link found himself not caring any more. That, and his beer was almost gone.

"Yes, she is," Link said defensively. "Forever and forever."

"So your parent's didn't conjure that one up? Push you into marrying her or something?" Ace retaliated, a little more of her token cynicism creeping into her voice. Link gave her a dirty look.

"I don't have parents… I mean, ugh. My parents aren't alive. They're dead."

Ace stopped in mid-sip. She slowly set her wine glass down and turned her green eyes onto him again.

"Sorry," she said, sincerely.

"It's okay…it's just- she's all I have. I couldn't ever, ever imagine living with anyone else but her," Link managed to say.

"But she's not here right now," Ace said, not missing a beat.

"No," Link responded.

"And it's killing you, isn't it?"

He didn't know what he was expecting, but it wasn't this. He had no idea how Ace suddenly go to be so god damned…perceptive.

"No, I mean… maybe. I just…she wants to wait a while before she sees me again."

"_What!?_ May I ask why?" Ace's questions were becoming increasingly tangled, as his mind sought after answers that were slipping away from him.

"I can't…I live _for_ her, Ace. That's what she said. I can't live for her. Or wait…no. That's-that's wrong. She can't live for me. That's what she said, I think."

"But that sounds exactly like what you're doing," Ace retorted.

"What do you mean?" Link asked, trying to remember to include constants while speaking.

"I mean- if you're so in love with her and so young, shouldn't you be living for each other? If she's all you got?"

Link stared at his now-empty beer glass. Images and pictures of Tracy were now flooding his mind, making his head hurt.

"Just …holdonasecond. I can't… think," Link finished. At some point, this conversation had taken a turn for the worse. And he couldn't remember where, when or how. But he felt sick.

"We could, um, talk about something else," Ace suggested awkwardly.

"Yeah, maybe," Link said, grabbing his glass and taking a sip. "My head hurts," he added.

"I think that's because you're drunk," Link heard Ace say.

"Wait…what?" he asked, as he tried to grasp this concept. "I'm not drunk. Trust me…I'd know if I was…drunk." He knew Ace was smirking. He just knew it.

"You just grabbed my glass of wine and took a sip of it," she pointed out.

"Wha?" Link asked, looking down at the glass in his hand.

"Fuck. Oh. Oh, shit Ace, I didn't mean to curse. Sorry," he managed to say.

Now Ace was laughing. At him. He hated it when people laughed at him. Absolutely hated it. She must have seen him frowning, because she stopped in mid-giggle.

"Don't- don't worry about it. You should know it's okay to curse around me, Larkin. I don't give a fuck," she said cleverly, through a smile. "And you can have that glass of wine. I think I'm done with it anyway."

"What time is it?" Link asked randomly. Ace looked around the bar. Link's vision seemed to focus in on only a few things a time but he gathered that most people had cleared out.

"I'm not entirely sure, but it seems Bruno and the gang left a while ago."

"Really?" Link asked, sounding disappointed. "That's not good."

"You're sad about that?" Ace asked.

"Actually…no. I guess I'm not. You were right. Bruno's- Bruno's not a good guy."

"No he's not," Ace responded. Link thought of how he Bruno had looked at Darling…like she was a thing. Not a person. At this, Link's stomach did a flip.

"He's using her…" he managed to say.

"You mean Darling?" Ace clarified, through a laugh. "I think she's using him more than he's using her. Or perhaps they're just using each other."

"You're okay with…with that?" Link asked.

"You know, I think we're done with ethical debates for the evening. Besides, I think we both need to go home," Ace said, hopping of the bar stool, grabbing her coat.

"What? Why?" he said, turning toward her.

"It's late and we still have work tomorrow."

"Umm…yeah. That's not good. I think- I think I need air anyway," Link said, mimicking Ace by hopping off of his stool. He instantly wished he hadn't. He clutched the bar with one hand for support as his world started to spin.

"Jesus… what was I thinking?" Link muttered under his breath.

"My guess is that you were thinking the alcohol would take your mind of her. Too bad we ended up talking about her for most of the evening," she said through a sarcastic laugh.

"Shit," Link declared.

"I know."

"I mean… shoot. Sorry," he said.

"Still censoring yourself, eh? You know it's obvious you don't drink all that often, you know that, right Larkin?" she said, as he followed her towards the door of the bar.

"Probably," he uttered a reply, although he was having a hard time remembering what her point was. Standing up had just made his drunkenness a lot heck of a lot worse. "How much did I have to drink?" Link asked.

"Enough. I don't advise you do it again. You're not very becoming while drunk, Larkin. Not smooth at all," she added.

Something in Link's thoughts told him to be upset at this, as if his ego was hurt…but he couldn't muster up the emotions. He was too busy trying to remember to put one foot in front of the other, to make it through the door.

The air was cold, and it wasn't until little patches of ice landed on his face did he notice it was snowing. That wasn't the worst of it, though. Even though the shop windows were no longer lit, the roses and hearts and crap attacked him from all angles.

"Holy…shit," Link managed to say. "Being drunk only makes it worse…."

"What are you mumbling about?" he heard Ace say in the background. His attention however, had honed in on one particular florist shop right next to Mick Mack's.

"Just a second," Link said. There was a bucket of roses in water outside the shop. Someone had forgotten to bring them inside, or something, and now the flowers were covered in snow.

"I need one of these," Link said, making sure to explain to Ace.

"Hey…hold up there, hotrod. I don't think you should take those. You have to pay for them. And the shops closed," Ace said from behind him. Link's hand was already in his pocket, grabbing his wallet.

"What are you doing?!"

He proceeded to open up his bill fold and take out a fifty dollar bill…

"No. Larkin, don't. That's probably your grocery money," he heard her say.

And then he proceeded to drop the money into the bucket full of water.

"There," he said, and took one of the roses, brushing the snow off it.

"Jesus Christ," Ace muttered.

"Tracy'll like this," he explained.

"Uhh, yeah, I'm sure she will," she said flatly. "Hey, are you sure you're okay?"

"I give her this…she'll like me. She'll come to live here. Yeah, that's what I'll do. It'll be fine. Right?" Link asked, looking back up to Ace for confirmation. She wasn't as amused. Instead she was frowning, her hands in her pockets.

"Ummm…sure? Should be fine. Uhh, Larkin?"

"Yep?"

"Do you even know you're way home?"

As Link clutched the rose he had just purchased, his thoughts tried to strain on something as confusing as directions. He looked around this way and that down the street. 4th Avenue…no, wait. 5th Avenue. He needed 5th Avenue. Or was it 5th Street? Where was…where was 42nd at?

"Which one is this?" he said, pointing to the road in front of him with the rose, causing a few wilted petals to fall to the snow-covered sidewalk.

"What? You mean the street? It's 55th," Ace said.

"Oh," Link murmured. That didn't really help him. "Avenue or boulevard?" he asked. Ace only stared at him, like she was questioning his sanity. Or maybe just his ability to hold his liquor.

"You don't know what you're doing, do you?" she asked. Link looked up at her, and he was suddenly embarrassed by his confusion.

"Umm...yeah. I do," he lied. "I can do it…" he said, and began to walk off in what he hoped was the right direction.

He thought heard a voice in the background- a voice say "fuck it"- but he couldn't be too sure.

"Come on, hotrod. You're staying with me," Ace said, grabbing him by the arm to turn him around in the other direction.

"Wait! I can't… I can't go home with _you!_ I have a fiancé- I'm _engaged_ for…for chrissakes!" For the tiniest moment, he could have sworn he saw Ace blush, but she recovered quickly with anger to be certain.

"Jesus Christ, Larkin! You're sure into yourself, aren't you?! I'm not inviting you into my bed or anything! _Fuck. _I'm saying crash on my couch…sleep it off for a while. I know where I live and it's two blocks away, whereas you have no idea how to get home."

"I don't- I don't know about that," Link retaliated. It still sounded…sketchy in his mind. Risky. Meanwhile, now Ace was getting mad.

"Take it or leave it, Larkin. But I'm freaking freezing, so make up your mind. Either sleep on my couch or walk around New York for four hours lost."

Link thought he could feel one of the roses' thorns prick him, but his fingers were so numb from the cold he couldn't be sure. He watched her for a moment, standing in the snow. She was trying to be nice, he realized. She meant what she was saying. And she was right, he didn't know how to get home.

"Yeah…I'm sorry. I think you're right. Ok. Uhh, let's go."

**

* * *

**

The walk to Ace's felt long, but he couldn't be too sure. For the most part, Link trailed behind Ace, however he did notice that she looked back to check on him every once in a while. Finally, after what seemed like forever, they reached a door Ace stopped at. Link furrowed his brows, staring up at it. The building didn't look like an apartment complex, but his was New York City. Ace fumbled with the key, cursing at the cold, before she threw the door open, ushering him quickly inside.

"Hurry up, it's cold," she said. He followed her instructions, and as he made his way in, he was surprised to see a freight elevator greet him. Ace pulled on a thick, white strap, and the door to the elevator creaked open horizontally from the middle.

"Hop in," she said. Link entered cautiously as Ace closed the door. She took a different key and undid a lock, which made the elevator start to move.

Whether it be the cold weather, or just the fact that he felt bad he was imposing, Link had sobered up just a little.

"I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice echoing off of the elevator shaft. "This isn't- I'm normally not like this."

If he grown more sober on the walk home, Ace had grown more quiet.

"I know," she said to the floor, as the elevator continued to ascend.

"I'm never drinking again," Link added. "I don't know why my dad did this."

"What do you mean?" she said, finally looking up at him. It was the first time he noticed her hair had been destroyed from the precipitation outside, and now it hung down flat, draped across by her too-thin shoulders. The effect was startling, but Link didn't voice his unease. Instead, he answered her question.

"My dad… drank a lot. For a long time. Ever since my mom died. He drank until it killed him," Link murmured. He was surprised to find that Ace laughed a little to herself at this statement…and didn't respond.

"Funny?" Link asked, a little put off by her ill-timed humor.

"No," Ace said, looking back to him, once again serious. "Ironic."

Link wasn't sure what she meant by this, but just then the elevator stopped, and he became more focused on getting inside some place that was heated. As Ace opened the door, they were greeted by essentially one giant room. It was definitely bigger than Link's apartment, but substantially less refined. Drywall cracked it some places to expose brick underneath. The furniture didn't match. The shower was in a random the corner of the room.

"Home sweet home. Couch is right there," Ace said, pointing to the living room area of the apartment. Meanwhile, she slipped off her shoes and shed her coat as well. The lights were off, and Ace didn't move to turn them on.

"Thanks," he said. Link dropped everything in a pile where he stood, and then made his way over to the couch in the dark. The exhaustion, the drunkenness, his being depressed, all of it seemed to come crashing down on him at once as he sat down.

He thought Ace had left to go off to another part of the room, but her voice suddenly echoed through the darkness.

"Hey, Link?" she said.

"Yeah?" Link asked from the couch. He figured he probably wouldn't have been able to get up anyway, and he didn't think Ace was expecting him to. So, instead, he kicked off his shoes and lay down on the couch, thanking god he didn't have to stand anymore.

"This…Tracy. She's lucky. I just don't think she knows how much. I mean, you're a…rarity. You're a- a _gentleman_. I mean, don't get me wrong- you're dense, egotistical, archaic and cocky…but you're still a gentleman, Link."

If he had been paying better attention, if he hadn't been so intoxicated still, he would have noticed a few things. Like the fact that Ace had not moved away from the living room yet. Or that it was the first time she had used his first name all night. Or the way she quivered as she picked up the crumpled, fifty dollar rose off the ground and stared at for a long moment. These things he did not notice; these things he did not see.

"Uhh, thanks? I think," Link finally mumbled from his spot on the couch, through closed eyes.

No one spoke for a moment. For a minute he started to think the conversation was over, before Ace's voice broke through the darkness once again.

"Link?"

"Yeah?" he managed to respond.

"I know you're tired… but can I give you some advice? About Tracy?" Ace asked.

"Shoot," Link murmured, his fingers all the while rubbing his temples.

"What you're dong here. This…moping. You shouldn't be out at a _bar._ You should be in Baltimore, visiting Tracy. Surprise her. I don't think she'd be mad, once she saw you…The truth is, we all have vices Link, but your isn't alcohol. It's _her._ You need _her_."

Link's ears only half-heard what she was saying, although his mind strained to listen. He knew her words had value, had importance. He just couldn't seem to focus in on what that was.

"You think?" Link heard his voice say somewhere off in the distance.

"Yes, I do," Ace murmured.

Link said something else. Something like, "I can do that. Okay. Thank you" but he wasn't quite sure, because the spell of sleep finally overtook him. His eyes, heavy as they were, drifted closed, his mind settling in for night, abused from alcohol.

Just as the he lost the battle with exhaustion, he thought her heard her murmur something else behind him in the darkness, but he couldn't hope to make it out. Dreams were already waiting for Link, and now they carried him off into a dark, endless void of slumber, stealing him away from Ace. Stealing him away from the world.

* * *

**AN: I took you down to a dark place, and now I'm bringing you back up to the surface. ;) **

**Hope you guys enjoyed it.**

**Chapter 5 should be up by next weekend. Thanks to everyone who takes the time to read and/or review. It's always very much appreciated.**

**A big shout out to Mel who works tirelessly as my fearless beta! **

**Enjoy those sunny, summer days, all. Until next week. **


	5. Chapter 5: Turn These Lights On

**Go Lost or Go Home**

**Chapter V: Turn These Lights On**

The scratch of cheap fabric against his cheek was the first thing he felt. It stuck to the stubble of his chin, causing his face to snag on the fabric every time he moved his head. He wasn't sure if this was what had woken him or not, but even in the throes of this drowsy and aggravated state of consciousness, he realized that this particular discomfort was unfamiliar… foreign.

The first sign of trouble. .

Link's heavy eyelids protested as he willed them to open at this first sign of unease. He tried to focus on what was in front of him, although it took several moments of concentration before he was able to do so.

The light was different. Even with the world still sideways, he realized that big, bay windows announced the morning's presence in a way his little window of his typical bedroom never could.

Another sign of trouble.

Link found himself letting out an audible, involuntary groan as his alarm made him sit up. His muscles, sore as they were, screamed in protest at having to move. As he finally took in more of his surroundings, the fearful feeling in the pit of his stomach grew worse. Nothing was where it should be. Looking around, still half-awake, he tried to find reassurance, some sign of familiarity. But everything seemed out of place. Did his room get...larger?

As the reality of the situation set in, the final lasting bits of sleep fell away as a blast of panic coursed through him. This was definitely not his apartment.

Turning his head this way and that, trying to make sense of it all, he felt like an idiot to even at first believe this could be his place. It was completely different. It was one giant room slip into sections. One corner, the corner he was in, housed some furniture and a tv, another corner looked like the kitchen, the other the bedroom, the other had a shower…wait a second.

As he turned back to the other corner of the room, the "bedroom", he swore he saw...yep, there was someone sleeping in the bed. A woman, by the look of it. Link eyes widened and his jaw went slack for a millisecond before he ducked back down to lie on the couch again to hide, breathing hard.

That was a big sign of trouble.

"Holy shit," he cursed under his breath. He was in someone else's apartment, on someone else's couch, and that someone else was currently asleep no more than ten feet away from him. Link struggled to breathe.

"What in the hell did you do last night, Larkin?" he muttered, as he slowly, and more stealthily this time, peaked over the edge of the couch again for confirmation. Yep, definitely a woman asleep in a bed. Link gulped and slowly turned around to sit on the couch once more, trying to remember something, anything from last night.

His depleted mind was pounding now, the intense requirement of something so exhausting as thinking causing his head to throb. He had gone out drinking...he must have crashed at someone's place. But who's?

As he began scanning the room for clues, that's when he saw it out of the corner of his eye. It mainly caught his attention because it was so out of place; that and it was so pitiful. A lone rose lay on the floor, strewn across his bag and shoes. It looked like it was barely holding onto life- most of its petals were missing, and the ones that still desperately clung to the flower were pitifully wilted.

Link merely stared at it for a moment quizzically before a sharp, clear image appeared in his brain. Rose petals, softly falling through the midnight air into the snow. This was followed by another image of Ace leaning across the bar, getting the bar tender's attention. Then another of Link trying not to trip as he walked out of Mick Mack's.

Like a rusted machine being forced to turn its wheels, Link's mind begrudgingly moved through the details in his head. The rose had seemingly jogged his memory. An image of Ace, her hands in her pockets, yelling something at him through the cold. Another of the elevator ride up to her place. Ace's place.

Oh dear god. All of that had really happened? He hadn't dreamed that?

Right then, another particularly painful memory of him twirling a rose about in the air trying to remember what street he lived on flashed across his mind. A wave of nausea hit him square in the stomach.

He really had been that drunk. Had really had been that fucking stupid. He, Link Larkin, had actually crashed at Syliva "Ace" Matthew's place for the night.

Link groaned. Well that explained the couch, and the woman in the bed, at least.

* * *

For most of his life, he had made an effort to stay away from booze. If it wasn't due to his father's alcoholism or how much it had ruined his childhood, Link could always rely on the fact that every time he drank, something bad usually happened.

It looked like last night hadn't been an exception.

Link scolded himself over and over to again as he swiftly and silently collected his things strewn about Ace's apartment. But with each quiet step he took, the dreaded details of last night seemed to burst forward like a dam busted open. And every time he remembered a particular painful detail, he couldn't help but wince.

This one was going down in the books. A real home run of a mistake. How could have he been that dense? That stupid? Not only had he drowned himself in every possible type of alcohol, but he had ended up confessing his feelings and fears to his arch-enemy.

As he did his tie, Link glanced over to the sleeping Ace. She looked peaceful, serene even, and at this realization he decided to retract that last thought. Drinking with someone and then offering them your place for the night because you were too drunk to function hardly was something an enemy would do for him. Link corrected that Ace wasn't really an enemy any more, but more like... an acquaintance. Or maybe, just maybe, a random sort of friend.

It felt weird to even think of it that way. Here was a girl, well maybe a woman, who he barely knew. Who most of the time responded to him in a caustic and off-putting manner. And yet, she hadn't let him wander around New York lost and drunk last night. That had to count for something.

Tie finished, he bent down to grab one of his shoes, but not before glancing over to the open area in the room of Ace's apartment. He had noticed, upon a once-over of the room, that ballet bars surrounded most of the walls. It had taken him a moment to put the pieces together, but Link soon realized Ace was living in a converted dance studio. And, subsequently, the various ballet shoes against the wall and the powder for her feet meant she still practiced.

Somehow, this fact made Ace not as threatening as she once seemed. She had a love for something at least and Link was slowly and steadily figuring out that more than her cigarettes and more than her constant berating of other people, dancing is what really got Ace through the day. Dancing, Link concluded, was Ace's vice.

_The truth is, we all have vices Link._

He wasn't sure what made him recall it. Last night, he hadn't even had the sense to comprehend what she was saying, but now the words were somehow seared into his brain. At this memory of Ace's words, Link's thoughts settled on his father momentarily, as he remembered how often he had relied on alcohol to get him through his days. Whether his father drank to deal, to drown, or just to forget, Link couldn't be certain. But the one thing he was sure about was that alcohol, in any form, was his father's crutch. His own vice, you could say.

But it seemed Link wasn't his father. Link's own drinking had essentially accomplished nothing, except given him the surprise of a lifetime this morning and then a nasty hangover to follow. However, idiot that he was, Link had actually thought alcohol would be a nice understudy. That it could actually act as a stand in. Ace had told him to his face last night that he was essentially an idiot for thinking alcohol could be the solution. Nothing could substitute... her.

And then, at these thoughts, more of the conversation, snippets of dialogue from last night, floated to the forefront of his brain like he was hearing them for the first time.

_What you're doing here. This…moping. You shouldn't be out at a bar. You should be in Baltimore, visiting Tracy._

_Surprise her._

Link needed Tracy. And no one else would do. So that meant only one solution. Link turned around and stared at the rose. Damning the consequences, he made up his mind. Valentine's Day was tomorrow. He hadn't missed a day of work. And the Baltimore Express left in two hours. He had memorized the schedule.

_Surprise her._

Link glanced back to stare at the slumbering Ace, and felt for the first time ever a surge of gratitude for her. He had made up his decision, and he probably would have never gotten here without her help.

He felt somewhat bad for leaving, but he didn't want to wake her. Still, wanting to offer her something as a thank you, Link got an idea that picked up the wilted rose from the floor and placed it on the counter. Finding a receipt, he flipped it over and took a pen from his jacket pocket. His handwriting was shaky as he scrawled a quick note across the back of it.

_Sorry you had to deal with me drunk. But thanks. You have no idea how much you've helped me. Take the flower. It's pathetic I know, but it's the least I can do._

_- Link_

And as he pulled on his coat and made his way down to the door, throwing one last fleeting look in Ace's direction, Link realized she was right. She had to be.

Everyone had a vice. His father had alcohol. His mother had pills. Ace had dancing. Link had Tracy. Alcohol was like pills was like cigarettes was like music was like dancing was like Tracy. Everyone had something to get them through the day. Everyone had something to make life tolerable.

* * *

As Tracy opened up her locker door, she smiled. A pink and red card sat atop her books, her name displayed across the front. Picking it up slowly, she admired the handiwork of her best friend. Hearts were cut out of construction paper and glued together, while glitter adorned every surface. Inside, there were more pink hearts colored with Crayola along with a message written in red crayon: _Roses are red, Violets are blue, I know Link's not here, but I love you too!_ –_Penny _

Tracy laughed a little at the card's cheesiness, but held it close to her all the same. Valentines' day was actually tomorrow, but everyone had been celebrating all day anyway. Kisses were handed out, roses were delivered, valentines were everywhere. Even at the Corny Collins Show, they were set today to do a Valentine's Day special.

In the past, holidays usually meant something special to Tracy. Her family had always raised her in a fashion that holidays were a great time to spend with friends and family, and that they should be celebrated with an appropriate amount of enthusiasm. Growing up with this first and foremost in her mind, she never considered any holiday beneath her.

Tomorrow, however, would be harder. About to close her locker door, she paused, her brown eyes catching his black and white one's from the poster still taped to the inside of the locker door.

Staring at Link's picture for a minute, she tried to remain strong as she went through the pep-talk in her mind again. She knew in her staunch effort to see if she could last two months without him, she had set herself up for this particular holiday. She also knew if she only said the word, he'd be here in an instant. But, the fact was, as much as she missed him, she didn't want give in just yet. When it came down to it, she still didn't want to have to want him. Link was his own person, and so was she. And she had to remember that. So, this Valentines day, she would go without, and let Link stay in New York where he was supposed to be. In the mean time, she planned on keeping a smile on her face and a positive attitude in her mind about this particular February the 14th. Giving the picture one final nod, she closed the door determinately. As she began to walk through the hall and out the door to where Link's Cadillac was parked, she made sure to keep her head held high.

The trick was not to think about him. Thinking of him usually meant thinking of him for hours on end. And this, particularly during the day, was the kiss of death. However, with all the time they had spent together in Baltimore, there were more than enough things that reminded her of him and they all could lead to this dangerous habit. This was the hardest part. Every time she climbed into his car, she couldn't think about how it still smelled like him. Just like when she opened her locker, she couldn't think about how her breath still hitched in her throat when met with a black and white picture of his deep blue eyes. When she lay down in bed at night, she couldn't think about the way he had held her close in New York, the way he had brushed a strand of her hair off her face...

She couldn't think about any of those things. Not if she intended to do anything else with her day. But especially, particularly not tomorrow, she thought, as she set Penny's card on the dash board. Checking her watch, she realized it was later than she thought, and she hurriedly started the engine, intent on making it to rehearsal on time.

She could do this. It was just a holiday. Link knew she loved him everyday. They didn't need a silly day marked on a calendar to remind each other of that fact.

* * *

She was in a hurry as she made her way to the front doors of WYZT. Making a bee line straight towards her mirror, she was quick to pull out some makeup. She wasn't late, but she certainly wasn't early. Tracy always hated rushing though, particularly when the lack of promptness was her own fault. She silently scolded herself for dilly-dallying at the school as she quickly swiped some blush across her cheek, trying to make up for lost time.

Beside her, Darla was perfecting her mascara. Fluttering her eyes for herself in the mirror, she only half-glanced at Tracy through her lashes. Darla wasn't necessarily her best friend by any means, but she had taken an icy stance against Tracy as of late.

"Chip's been looking for you," she finally said, somewhat snipply.

It wasn't very often that Tracy rolled her eyes, but she did it right then. The never-ending story that was Chip Coleman. For some reason, most of the Council girls were still in love with him, even if they were on to his cheesiness. Tracy, however, was obviously not. She saw right through his crooner façade and whereas Link was a real, intriguing person underneath, Chip was not.

For some ungodly, unknown reason, however, Chip had continued to pine after Tracy for weeks. And after countless attempts to politely decline his invitations on various outings, with no change in the frequency of those invitations, Tracy had started using more forceful methods. Like outright ignoring him. Today had been no exception to the rule.

"He's already found me four different times today and asked me out every single one of those times. And I keep saying no. So I don't know what he could possibly want," Tracy said, through gritted teeth.

Darla just smacked her gum, and continued to stare at her disbelievingly.

"Have you been out on a date with him?" she asked scrupulously.

"Darla, I don't like him! Why would I go out on a date with him? Does anyone actually believe that I am engaged, here?" Tracy said, once again waving her ring in front of the other councilette. "And even if I wasn't, Chip would be the last person, the very last person-" Tracy stopped in mid-sentence however as she noticed Darling's cold stare had turned into a goofy, large grin, staring at something behind Tracy.

"Oh, no," Tracy muttered.

"Hi Chip!" Darla said enthusiastically, right as Tracy whirled around to see her stalker standing right behind her.

"Oh, hi Darla..." Chip said somewhat blandly, before settling his eyes on Tracy. He was a red suit today complete with white tie and shoes. The word _tacky _came to mind every time she looked at him.

"Tracy, baby, honey. Gotta question for you," he said, staring down at her.

"I don't have an answer," she said under her breath, as she returned back to apply some last minute makeup, trying her hardest to ignore him the best she could. Whether he had heard her snarky reply or not, Chip pressed forward regardless.

"So, Tacy, do you have a map?"

She didn't like where this was going. Tracy didn't say anything at first...but it was obvious he was going to continue to stand next to her until she came up with an answer. Finally, she begrudgingly responded.

"No. Why, Chip?" she said, hoping she sounded annoyed. Nevertheless, Chip smiled that big tacky smile, his blues mimicking those of Link, but his yellow pasty hair doing exactly the opposite. Happy to not be ignored, he stepped closer to her.

"Because I just keep getting lost in your eyes." Tracy heard Darla sigh in awe behind her. Tracy had sighed too, but out of total frustration for both of them.

"Seriously, Chip?" Tracy asked rather rudely.

"Awe, you didn't like that one, darling? How about this- so ,Tracy, did it hurt?"

"Oh, come on. Please Chip..." she warned

"Did it hurt?" Chip repeated, talking over her. "When you fell out of heaven?"

Again, Darla squealed behind an exasperated Tracy. They seemed more meant for each other than Tracy and Chip did for goodness sake. Checking her watch and realizing she only had minutes to spare until they recorded, she turned back to Chip, nostrils flaring. She had told him no so many times and she was running out of ways to say it. Finally, she settled on an answer.

"No, Chip, it didn't. Because I didn't fall out of heaven. I was born in Baltimore. And I'd wish you stop it with the pick up lines. They're cheesy, tacky, and lame. And they obvious don't work on me. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to dance."

And with that, she walked past him to the soundstage, not once looking back to see his reaction.

* * *

After the filming of the show, the supposed lover of all holidays was starting to increasingly begrudge this particular Valentine's Day and it hadn't even happened yet. Between Chip's suggestive dancing and crooning amplified by the season to half of the councilettes shooting her looks of jealousy because of it, she had had enough.

At their break, Tracy walked back to the mirrors exhausted. She was both physically and emotionally drained, and they still had another hour of practice on top of filming. For a moment, she simply sat there. As she stared at herself in the mirror, she tried not to bite her lip in frustration too hard.

"You look a little on edge."

Looking up at the voice, Tracy saw Seaweed staring down at her. Grateful he wasn't Chip or anyone else that had caused so much strife tonight, Tracy breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hi, Seaweed," she said rather unceremoniously.

"Let me guess, Chip at it again?" Seaweed asked, now moving to sit in Darla's vacant chair. She was happy to see Seaweed take it.

"Yes, he is. Especially today," Tracy said, grimacing slightly.

"How many times have you told that loser off, anyway?"

"I lost count," Tracy said, and he laughed. She smiled at him, but she was not surprised to see that the conversation dwindled after that, both of them tired, a whole night still ahead of them. After a while, however, Seaweed spoke again.

"So why is you-know-who not here?" Tracy turned toward Seaweed, a little surprised by his use of code.

"What?" she said.

"I mean, I thought you-know-who would come down for a visit-" Seaweed began again, before being interrupted.

"You can say his name, Seaweed," Tracy interjected.

"I know. Sorry, baby. You just haven't...used his name a lot. So I thought I'd be careful."

Tracy open and closed her mouth, but said nothing. Link had become a touchy subject with Seaweed and Penny as of late. Ever since Tracy had mentioned her two-month plan the couple, and they, particularly Seaweed, had disagreed with her whole-heartedly, it had been hard to talk about Link while together.

"What is it, Seaweed?" Tracy finally said. She knew he was getting to something here, and she started to brace herself.

"Have you even spent a Valentines Day together?" Seaweed asked. Tracy looked down, suddenly intensely focused on her nails. Very much like Link in several ways, Seaweed could always tell if she was being honest or not just by looking at her face.

"We don't need a silly holiday day to proclaim love," she muttered, more to the floor than to anyone else.

"Oh, really?" Seaweed asked, raising his eyebrows. "Look at you, little miss revolutionary. I thought you loved holidays."

"Well I'm growing up," Tracy said pertly.

"Growing up, huh?" Seaweed asked, through an ill-timed smile. For some reason, this particular gesture was disconcerting to Tracy. Like he was inwardly laughing at her.

"Yes, and besides, I told Link not to come. You know the deal…two months until I see him again," she said, hoping to seal the nail in the coffin of this argument. At this response, Seaweed frowned.

"I still don't get that," he said.

An awkward pause followed as Tracy tried to think of a way to explain it to him again, but she was finding the reasoning behind her initial decision harder and harder to explain. Honestly, she just wanted to stop thinking about it, because it always made her upset. She wanted to be happy right now. She wanted to be blissfully unaware of this whole situation. Of her all her plans and the fact that nobody approved of them. And yet Seaweed was here, continuously reminding her.

"So I'm supposed to give you a message from Penny," Seaweed continued on, not about to be swayed by her pertness.

"And what is that?" Tracy asked quietly.

"She says you guys should talk about things...particularly since you rounded third base and made your way on to home and all..."

At this, Tracy did blush. She was pretty sure this type of topic had never come up with Seaweed. And although she had let Penny in on some of the juicer details of New York, Tracy was a little shocked to see her best friend had relayed this information to Seaweed. Why didn't Penny just offer her this piece of advice herself?

"We have," Tracy said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"She means in person," Seaweed responded.

Tracy bit her lip, but didn't say anything. At her hesitation, Seaweed spoke again.

"Look...I know I'm butting in here and it really isn't my business. But it is a little, sugar. You're my friend, too. And this thing you've got going on- this let's ignore Link because you're being your own person thing- it's ridiculous. And it isn't you, Tracy. You were never unsure of yourself before. Why do you think you've changed? I agree it's not right to completely give up everything to some guy, but frankly you couldn't do that even if you tried, honey."

Tracy didn't talk for a moment, jaw slack as she absorbed this information. She had doubted Seaweed had ever been this honest with her. Aghast at his words, it took a moment before she finally found the ability to speak.

"Did Penny want you to say that too, or something?" she asked quietly.

"No, that came from me," he said, straightening in his chair a little.

"But-" Tracy began, before being cut off once more.

"Just…don't put him too much at a distance. You might not need him, but I just...I talked to him the other day..."

"You talked to him?" she interrupted. At this, Seaweed shot her a look.

"We're friends too Tracy. But let me finish...I'm just saying, I talked to him. And although you might not need him, it's drop-dead obvious he needs you."

"It's not that I don't need him-" she began again, but this time was caught off guard by Corny, gathering everyone back up to start rehearsal. Staring around at everyone headed to the dance floor, Tracy was beside herself with confusion on what to do next. Looking at Seaweed for consolation, she watched him get to his feet.

"Gotta dance, now. We'll talk more later. You alright sweetheart?" Seaweed asked, staring down at her with a look that could almost be mistaken for as pity. Tracy hoped it wasn't. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

"No, I'm fine Seaweed. It's just..." Tracy lingered, and then shook her head slightly. _You're just too honest. _"Never mind," she said, giving him a small smile. "Thanks for the talk."

"You coming?" Seaweed asked, as he noticed she not stood from her chair.

"Be there in a sec," she said, before moving to stand as well.

She didn't follow him to the dance floor though. Instead, she found herself being magnetized to the dressing rooms. Making sure she wasn't being watched, she disappeared into one of them, desperately needing immediate time alone, her mind overloaded with a thousand different thoughts.

Seaweed was wrong. She did need Link. She needed him. That was the problem. That's why she kept insisting they keep this space between them.

Was she really hurting Link? Tracy had been so focused on her own feelings, she hadn't totally analyzed it from the other way around. Link didn't rely on her to make him happy, did he? Suddenly, an image of the night when he had broken down in her arms, the night his dad died, flashed through her thoughts. Another of Link on that train platform right as she left- that hurt, frustrated look in his eyes. Then, of course, the memory of Link begging Tracy over the phone to come to New York sooner.

Tracy suddenly felt guilty, and all the more confused. She thought she had been doing the right thing. She thought back to the message Seaweed had given to her from Penny. That they needed to talk about what had happened in New York in person. For the most part, she had initially thought this was sort of silly. They were adults, weren't they? She could handle being apart from him, even though she had slept with him for the first time. That didn't change her or anything…right?

Tracy recalled the disgruntled look on Seaweed's face when she reiterated her plan for him again. Her plan- no one liked it. Tracy was beginning to wonder if she even liked it herself. It wasn't working the way she wanted. She was hurting everyone somehow, but she had only meant well. Maybe she had went about it in the wrong way. Maybe she hadn't talked about it with Link enough. Maybe she had just been emotional, upset from having the raw, intimate nights in New York ripped away from her so quickly.

Maybe, just maybe, she had doubted herself when she shouldn't have.

That same memory of Link brushing a strand of hair of her face on that blissful morning in New York resurfaced. Why did she have to suppress those precious memories? Why did she feel she had to cover up that happiness she felt? Link made her happy; there shouldn't be anything wrong with that, should there? Was Seaweed right in the fact that she had always, all this time, been her own person?

Right then, she heard the door open again. Every muscle in her body froze, as she whipped her head around to see who had intruded her deepest of thoughts. Realizing who it was, she groaned. Outwardly.

"You're not supposed to be in here, Chip," she said, her lips tight.

"Dollface, gimme a chance. One date is all I ask. It's Valentine's Day for goodness sake," he said, slowly walking over to where she stood. Tracy backed up, until her back was almost touching the mirrored wall.

"I don't care what day it is. I'm not interested."

"Come on, one date…" he continued, moving a hand to brush hers. She instantly recoiled in disgust. Meanwhile, an emotion she rarely felt unless seriously provoked was bubbling up inside her. It was more severe than frustration, more tangible than annoyance. It instantly took a hold of her, and now her whole body seemed to be ablaze with it.

The emotion, she realized, was anger.

"I think you'll agree if you just go on one date with me-" Chip persisted.

"No!" she said loudly.

"But Trace-"

"No! And stop calling me that! Who are you, anyway?!"

Chip looked confused by her question, and maybe a little alarmed. But Tracy wasn't backing down.

"I mean it! Who do you think you are?" she said, now rounding on him.

"I- I don't know what you mean…" Chip tried to interject, but she was having none of it.

"Doesn't 'no' mean anything to you? Because I don't like you! I never will! And I swear, I swear with everything I have Chip, if you come any closer or ask me out again I'll…I'll…"

"She'll hold and I'll punch," he interrupted from behind them.

Chip whirled around to the doorway to see who the owner of the voice was, but Tracy had known since the moment he had spoken. His voice alone seemed to make all the worry, the dread, the anger drop away, as if the lights in her world had been turned on once again.

And as she finally turned around, she saw Link,_ her _Link, leaning against the door frame, staring right into her eyes, smiling.

All she could do was smile back.

* * *

AN: I am sorry it took me a bit to get to you. RL, as usual, stepped in once again. One of the busiest weeks of the year at work. :( This week, however, I'm on vacation, so I'm doing much better. (Substantially less stressful.)

I know this was a cliffhanger- sorry! ;) I had to throw you at least one! :D As soon as I get back from vacation (next week) I'll really get into writing/finish chapter 6.

In the mean time, I hope you enjoyed the chappie, despite the cliffhanger. ;) Hope you all are doing well. Thanks for reading/reviewing. As always, you guys rock my world.


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